It'd be easier if I hated you
by TheKarlyFries
Summary: After her friend and object of affection, Draco Malfoy, confesses that he has fallen in love with Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, the new appointed Charms professor at Hogwarts, decides she needs a rebound.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** - I do not, in any way, shape or form, own any of these characters, settings or themes. They all belong to the wonder that is J.K. Rowling!

Enjoy!

* * *

I read the letter again, for the third time.

I was going to be a professor at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts, of all places!

It just didn't seem real yet, even with the stiff, cream parchment in my hands as proof.

Amongst the stress and shock, one thought drowned all others: _Draco will be the first to know._

I smiled then, thinking of my incredibly handsome and incurably arrogant friend, Draco Malfoy. He would insist on going to the nearest pub and getting completely blasted, like always.

_Can we have a round of beer for _Professor Parkinson_? _He'd say to the bar maid, loudly enough to cause the entire pub to erupt in congratulatory remarks.

_Congratulations, oh, beautiful friend of mine. _He'd say, glass raised to me, with that look in his eye, the look only I brought out in him. The Pansy look.

I smiled, looking over the letter again, and then stuffed it in my jacket pocket for safekeeping. I left then, locking my mailbox, securing the rest of the letters and bills under my arm, and jogged up the stairs of my flat building to flat 203.

Next to my Slytherin dorm at Hogwarts, my flat in muggle London had to be the most comfortable I've felt in a setting. Sure, there was the Parkinson manor, nestled in the hills near a small wizarding village, but it was never home. Hogwarts was always the better place for me. That's why directly after the war, I bought the small flat, with a fireplace, and a balcony with a view of the Eye and the Thames River. It was outside the wizarding world, yes, but it had been what I had needed at the time: a place away from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly always posting stories about the war victims.

I wanted somewhere quiet.

My flat was just that. A nice, small, yet well built home. I loved it.

Once inside, I put the mail on the table next to the door, along with my keys and shrugged out of my jacket. And, walking into my small kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge to satiate my thirst.

Leaning against the counter, I looked around the flat, the pictures of my younger brother and I in New York blown up and framed on the far wall by the window, Blaise and I laughing at Kings Cross in a small frame next to the telly, and Draco and I in Paris in a small frame by my sofa. Although unmoving, the pictures held memories, times I was truly happy.

I walked across the living area, sat down on the brown plush sofa there and picked up the old, silver frame that held mine and Draco's smiling faces. It was my favorite picture, from a time when we were worry free, and 15. Before the war, and his dark mark. We're outside some fountain overflowing with water and children all around us. He's looking directly at the camera, smirking, and I'm gazing up at him, a goofy smile on my face.

I nearly began to walk down memory lane when my muggle mobile phone began to vibrate in my jeans pocket. I set the frame down in my lap and flipped the phone open without looking at the name or number of the caller.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Please tell me why you have voluntarily decided to live in the seventh circle of hell also known as muggle London." Draco's quiet voice came through the receiver.

I laughed quietly, and stood up, walking the straight line at the edge of the throw carpet over the dark, hard wood floors of my flat.

"Definitely the food." I replied sarcastically, smiling at Draco's laugh on the other end.

He sighed and made a frustrated sound. "Please expect me over in about thirty minutes. I need to tell you something." He said seriously, but I could sense the smile in his voice.

"Pray tell what you're doing in muggle London in the first place, dear. Not just to gossip with little old me?" I said, overtly sweet. I spun and walked around the back of my sofa, trailing a lazy pointer finger across the seam.

Draco laughed, and sighed again. I could hear the sounds of the London streets, taxis and fellow pedestrians. It was somewhat funny to picture Draco Malfoy walking in muggle London while speaking on a mobile phone. "You wish. Mum had me come to the city to get some ridiculous perfume that only sells in a muggle shop." He sneered. "Bloody woman." He said quietly.

I laughed, turning around again to face the window of my flat. "What are you coming to me for? Something serious?" I asked curiously, admiring the look of the London lights at night.

"Not yet." He said. I could imagine him shaking his head. "I don't want to tell you over this…_thing_." He said. Draco's love for mobile phones was all but absent.

"Ok" I said, nodding my head. "I'll see you soon."

After hanging up, I dropped the phone on my sofa and ran to the entrance hall to a mirror hanging on the wall adjacent to the door. I checked my appearance, ruffling my dark hair, pinched my cheeks to give them color, and bit my lips. I straightened my just above the knees dress, and made sure that my brown eyes were clear of any smudges or weirdness. I smiled, checking my straight teeth, and then cupped my hands around my mouth and blew into them, checking my breath.

"All's clear." I smiled into the mirror, immediately aware that all of this preparation for Draco Malfoy, king of 'commitiphobia', was completely ridiculous. The boy had been telling me how beautiful I was since I was three. I think I was safe from any sort of horrible ugly anything.

But that was just it, after so many years of friendship, no matter how beautiful, funny, smart or sexy he said I was, I was never his girlfriend. Draco didn't 'do the girlfriend thing'. It was against his nature.

That didn't stop me from making sure I looked perfect in every second of exposure to him. And it was just that: Whenever he came around, he willingly allowed me to be exposed to him.

Draco Malfoy, the most handsome man I had ever met. His pointed features, stormy grey gaze, milky white skin and beautiful, silky blonde hair made him the most sought after wizard of our age. When we'd go to a pub, girls would openly stare at him. As if he was an angel, or some type of incredible, touchable god.

He wasn't, of course. He treated most people like rubbish. He only really loved a few. His mum, the woman who sacrificed so much to keep him safe, Blaise, the only male at Hogwarts that could match his superior intellect, and me.

I never felt like I belonged on that short list. I was far from superior. I had been told I was beautiful my entire life, but only really grew into my facial features when I began my twenties. I never had the delusion that I was ugly. A mirror could solve that, but I was neither the most beautiful witch ever, nor the most intelligent one.

I mean, sure, I was in the top 10 best students of our Hogwarts class, but I was no Hermione Granger.

I excelled at Charms, and Defense against the dark arts, whereas, Draco excelled at Potions and Transfiguration.

Draco nearly loved me due to our forced play dates when we were children. We grew up together, and after so many years of secrets, hexing frogs in the forbidden forest on weekends, and drinking after curfew, you grow attached to someone.

Or at least I did. The problem was, attachment wasn't my only desire. I wanted Draco to love me. More than a friend love. But, that was impossible. So, I settled for the next best thing: A friend with benefits.

We would meet up occasionally, shag until both of us were satisfied, and then go drinking. He would never kiss me in public. I'd save my hand holding for my flat, or his. I'd get my Draco fix however he'd let me.

It wasn't rainbows and sunshine all the time. Most times, he'd leave with a charming smirk and "Until next time", and I'd curl up on my sofa, watch some ridiculous romantic muggle movie, and sob until the credits. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

That all happened until a couple of weeks ago, when he wouldn't even return my owls. I'm not the jealous sort. I don't comment on his multiple flings, or the twats he snogs in alleyways, but once the boy doesn't even reply to my owls, something is wrong, and it causes worry. I've never not had contact with him, whether it is our recent usage of mobile phones, flooing to each other's flats, owling, or firecalling. I was worried, to say the least. And, although his call had made me feel a bit of relief, I still wanted to know the reasoning behind his absence from my life.

It scared me how much I missed him after only two weeks of not seeing or hearing from him. That's what it all came down to.

It didn't even hurt my feelings that he hadn't contacted me. I just missed hearing his voice.

Bleeding hell, I've got it bad.

A light tap on the door interrupted my inner worrying.

_I'll return to the subject after he's gone._ I thought, taking a deep breath.

I looked in the mirror once more, making sure not even a hair was out of place, and then opened the door with a smile.

Draco gave me a once over with his steel eyes. He was leaning against the doorway in denim jeans that hugged his thin legs, a simple white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. He looked beautiful.

"Hey." I said staring at his face, looking at his hand that held a bag from the muggle store I presumed held Narcissa's perfume.

"Hey." He smirked.

I lunged myself into his arms, dug my head into his chest and inhaled his sweet, minty cologne. "Don't you dare spend another two weeks without contacting me, Malfoy." I mumbled into his chest.

His chest hummed with his quiet laugh as he put his chin on top of my hair. "You smell good." He said, inhaling the fragrance of my shampoo.

"Back at you." I mumbled, reluctantly letting go and stepping back. "And thank you." I said, smoothing my hair and stepping aside to let him in. He smirked and walked into my flat.

"What were you doing when I called?" He asked, looking past my kitchen, as if to see if I was alone.

_As if I wanted anyone else _I huffed, which caused him to raise a perfect blonde brow at me. "Um, I actually had just stepped in. I've been at the book store all day." I admitted, shutting the door and walking past him into the living area.

He followed, eying his surroundings. After eight years of living here, both Blaise and Draco still couldn't stand the place. They found it too small. Too muggle is really what they thought, but they'd never tell me that.

"Oh, did you ever read _Crime and punishment_ like I told you to?" He asked with a blank expression, sitting down on the brown sofa and crossing his ankles neatly.

I smiled. "Yeah, and I loved it." I admitted, sitting next to him.

He smirked, and then eyed the picture of us in the middle of the sofa. "Taking a trip down memory lane?" He asked, picking up the frame and staring at it with an amused expression.

I snorted unlady-like, which caused another blonde eyebrow to be raised. "You came here to tell me something." I reminded him, grabbing the frame and placing it back on the side table.

He looked at the picture for a little longer, and then snapped out of whatever it was, and smiled.

Draco smiling is my favorite picture in the world. I want to frame it a million times and put it everywhere, but I didn't think he'd like that, so I settled for a simple wallpaper on my mobile phone.

I blinked out of my reverie and suddenly became curious. "Ok, what is it?"

His smile faded into a smirk and he looked away from me to his perfect nails. "I met someone." He said simply.

That's all? Draco 'meets' someone everyday. I frowned. "And, what? She's incredibly flexible?" I said sarcastically, shaking the image out of my head.

And, suddenly, out of nowhere, his smirk faded and his perfect fingernails began to pick at an invisible spot on his jeans. He looked anywhere but at me. "I wouldn't know." He said quietly.

I froze. Everything in my flat seemed to be in a frozen picture. I saw my friend, Draco Malfoy, but didn't really see him. Was he really here?

It seemed to be centuries before I found my voice again. "What do you mean?" Although newly found, my voice was quiet, my eyes wide. I'm sure I looked a lot like an owl.

And, finally, achingly slowly, Draco looked at me. And, the look in his eyes caused whatever it was in my stomach to lurch. I instantly wanted to puke. "I think I'm in love, Pansy." He said.

And then I laughed. I'm not sure what had brought it on, or what I had heard that was so funny, but I laughed as if he had told me the world's funniest joke. I laughed like a crazed hyena. That was until I felt his cool, soft hands on my shoulders, shaking me slightly.

He stared at me with amusement, love and something foreign. Worry? "Hello? Earth to Pansy Parkinson." He said, still staring me in the eye.

I didn't say anything, just simply stared back at him. This had to be some incredibly cruel joke, right? Draco Malfoy doesn't just 'be in love' with someone. There are practically laws against that.

_Laws you made in your head._ I thought, frowning. I got up from the sofa, and began to pace. "Ok, just let it out. Who is he?" I asked, my hands on my head.

It was his turn to laugh at me. "You think I love a _guy_?" He asked, holding his stomach, eyes pushed shut, laughing. "That's a good one!" he snorted, still laughing.

I stopped pacing, lowered my hands and stared at him incredulously. "You mean this 'someone' is a '_she_'?" I asked, swallowing against the sudden ringing in my ears.

He looked at me as if I had told him I was a virgin. "Well, _yes_, Pansy. I am a straight man." He said slowly, as if to a five year old trying to understand rules.

I began to pace again, the ringing in my ears continued, my heart raced at an unhealthy rhythm. This was impossible. If he wasn't gay, then there's definitely no way he could love someone else.

I was about to ask him if he considered goblins or unicorns as 'someone' when I saw the look on his face. At first, he looked slightly angry with me, but that passed when he looked down. The emotion in his eyes when he looked back up at me stopped my heart. Well, not literally, but you get the picture.

"Pansy, I'm serious here." He said quietly, slowly.

I found myself nodding. There was a strange sensation of numbness spreading in my body. It began at my fingertips. "Don't you want to know who she is?" he asked, prodding me to speak.

Again I nodded, the prickling numbness now at my knuckles. "She went to school with us, you know." He said.

I didn't look at him anymore. Staring at the picture of my brother and I at the Statue of Liberty across the ocean, I vaguely registered how I couldn't feel anything from my elbows down. "She's younger. But, only by a year. She's quite mature for her age." He chuckled.

There was no feeling in my arms at all. I stared at my little brother's smiling face. "It's Ginny, Pansy. Ginny Weasley."

Closing my eyes, I breathed through my nose slowly. I couldn't feel anything. Not even the breath I took in. "Please say something, Pansy." Draco said pleadingly.

I couldn't. I lacked the ability, the necessity, and desire.

"Pansy? Hello?" Draco's voice sounded closer than the sofa. He must have been standing in front of me.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked, begging me to respond.

Somehow, I was able to speak through the inability to feel anything. "Please stop." I whispered. I opened my eyes and collapsed on the floor, sitting up, with my legs in disarray.

Draco looked down at me, worried. "Do you want me to leave?" He asked, glancing at the door. This made him uncomfortable, I could tell.

I said nothing, and made no move to get up. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked weakly. My cheeks were suddenly wet; I couldn't move to dry them.

I heard his sharp intake of breath and saw him sit down across from me, my eyes followed his every move. "Because, I would have rather you heard it from me than Witch Weekly." He stated, looking me in the eye. His normally bright silver eyes were dark, stormy, worried, but he showed no emotion on his face. This was Draco: the mayor of Non-emotion Ville.

"Pansy," Draco said, moving his hand to cover mine.

I jumped back from him, shocking us both at my rapid avoidance of his touch. He let his hand fall to his side, and got up. "If you're going to act like this, maybe I should go." He said stiffly.

I regained my full motor skills and glared at him. "How did you expect me to take this, Draco?" I spat his name with as much venom as I could muster.

My tone worked, because the blonde flinched a bit and then recovered. "I dunno," He stated, running a hand through his perfect blonde hair. "I guess I thought you'd be happy for me." He muttered quietly.

I snorted, and finally got up. "So, is this all you came to tell me? Or, are you already engaged too?" I asked with an attempt at nonchalance.

He stared at me incredulously; a muscle in his jaw began to twitch. "Do you really think I would spring something like that on you?"

I laughed shortly, and walked past him towards the door. "Well, I wouldn't put that past you, Draco. You haven't contacted me in two weeks. Anything could have happened." I said as I got to the door.

I turned and looked at him. His expression was one of anger. With a defiant stomp, he briskly walked over to me and stood in front of me. "I can't believe you're being like this." He said, glaring at me.

"Draco." I said, returning his glare. "Please get out."

His glare faltered a bit. This was a first for him. I had never denied him. Ever. Then, he obligingly walked past me and opened the door, not turning around before walking out and shutting it loudly.

I stared at the spot his head had been in for what seemed like days, and finally, and surprisingly, a loud, painful sob wracked through my body, and I slid my back down the door until I sat crying against it.

_Well, this was not the evening I thought it was going to be. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** - I do not, in any way, shape or form, own any of these characters, settings or themes. They all belong to the wonder that is J.K. Rowling!

Enjoy!

* * *

It had been another two weeks.

Two weeks since I found out I was going to be a professor in a month. Two weeks since Draco confessed that not only did he not love me, he loved a _Weasley_.

I think it would have been easier to digest if he loved the male Weasley. But, to picture Draco, _My _Draco, with the youngest, vibrant, beautiful Ginny Weasley made me want to get sick all over my new trainers.

It had been two weeks since I had a fulfilling meal.

I was thin before, but now, I looked as if something had crawled within me and died. I avoided the mirror completely, I didn't want to see what that boy could do to me with just his absence.

It had been two weeks since I had seen him.

I missed him so much that it ached, but I knew that if I saw him, it would mean I would have to either choose to accept his feelings towards the Weaslette, or not talk to him, and I couldn't decide which one was more painful.

So, I avoided thinking of both possible outcomes, and decided that maybe this was a good way to die. Ignorance was definitely bliss in this situation, and if I stopped my subscription to Witch weekly, I could prolong my decent into oblivion. I could maintain my mental hold on Draco, the one I had staked claim in when we were three. The one only I held.

The one he didn't return.

That was the most painful thing, I think. More painful than my aching desire to kiss every part of him, more painful than the wrenching hunger I had on a constant basis, more painful than the dull tingling in my mind, the memory was there, the tingling was me remembering that I was trying to forget.

The fact that he didn't want me back was more painful than all of this. The sad part was, I already knew it before he had come over that night. I knew it when he came to my flat, and kissed me fervently. I knew it when he stumbled along the dirty streets of muggle London to the nearest pub after shagging. I knew it when he lazily said goodbye at the end of the night. I knew it when he refused to kiss me in public.

I just held it in very well, but I knew he never wanted me. Or, at least, he never wanted to be with me.

And, that's what I had to remember.

Eventually, like all of Draco's insane escapades, he'd get tired of her. He'd get scared of committing to her. He'd want something different. And, after he broke her fragile little heart, as he always did, he'd come to me, and we'd start our disturbingly familiar tango.

But, even after all of the beautiful, tall, thin girls he had been with, he never had said he _loved_ any of them. There was something different about Ginny Weasley.

She made him _love_ her.

As I laid in bed, blankly staring at my ceiling, I decided I would go to the bookstore down the street that day. I was in desperate need of contact with the outside world. In desperate need of pages beneath my fingers, of words and characters that had it so much worse than I did.

I got out of bed, then, letting my feet dangle until they hit the cool nearly black wooden floors of my flat. I stood, wobbled a bit to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, shocked by my shallow cheeks, my sickly pale skin and protruding collarbone. I put a hand through my shoulder length hair, making an attempt to look normal, and then sighed and began to strip for the shower.

The water was incredibly hot, and the steam made my eyes water, but the heat made my skin sing. It was the best feeling I had had since Draco left that night. I made sure to wash my skin and hair thoroughly, and then got out, wrapped myself in a towel and marched into the front room with determination.

With the touch of a button, a bubbly, but soft muggle jazz singer began to sing about it being a better day. I got dressed, a light cotton coral shirt with ruffles up the front and white shorts that were summery. I slipped my feet into a pair of white strappy sandals and threw over a barely there mint green sweater.

I smiled at my reflection, but frowned when I realized it looked forced. I brushed my teeth, my hair, and then pinched my cheeks to make my face a little less pale. It didn't exactly work miracles, but it did bring a bit of color to them. I looked a tad more human.

Once outside, I pulled my messenger bag across my body, locked the door, and headed down the stairs. The cool, summery London breeze hit me, and I smiled as the wind ruffled my hair around me.

I walked down the sidewalk, one hand swinging idle less as I walked, and the other clutching the strap of my small messenger bag containing my wand, my sunglasses I didn't quite need yet, my mobile phone, and _Crime and punishment_.

I frowned, remembering the book Draco had asked me to read ages ago that I finally did read and ended up loving. It wasn't my favorite book, Brontë's _Wuthering heights_ had it beaten by a long shot, but it had been something I was looking forward to speaking to Draco about. I shook the thought out of my head, and continued walking, clutching my messenger bag tighter, turning my knuckles white.

Rang and Darley's book palace had been a solace of mine since I had moved to muggle London. I found it, one day, on accident, while looking around the city, trying to decide where I was going to drink my daily cup of pomegranate tea, and was pleasantly surprised when I came across the old, good smelling bookstore.

A man who I had guessed to be in his 70's owned it. He was an adorable old Scottish man, who always had a smile for me when I entered. He didn't know I was a witch, but he still treated me as if I was his own daughter.

"Why, hello there, Miss Pansy." He said warmly with his thick accent from behind a stack of books as I entered and the bell on the door rang.

I smiled back and walked towards him, inhaling the heavenly scent of decades of books. "Hey, Darley." I said back, attempting a glance at him over the large pile of old novels he was organizing.

He startled me when he popped his head up over them, and began to walk into the back of the store. "What can I help ya with, love?" He asked, blowing some dust off the top of an old Frost poem book.

I eyed the endless rows of books lined on endless bookshelves and shrugged at a loss. "Surprise me." I said, smiling again.

He eyed me carefully, and then shook his head. "How did I ever become so lucky as to meet a young lass such as you?"

I laughed, picking up a large encyclopedia from his desk in the back. "I'm the lucky one here, Darley." I said. "I get to come here anytime I want and speak to you." I continued, fluttering my eyelashes at him, and giving him a full smile.

He huffed and then took the encyclopedia from me. "Don't 'cha try ta pull the wool over me eyes, lass. I can tell you haven't been eatin'." He said, eying me with distaste.

I shrunk down, embarrassed, and dropped the act. "Yeah, hard time lately." I admitted and followed him down a row of shelves lined with novels.

He shook his head as I followed, and then stopped in front of a row in the middle of the store, my personal favorite row, labeled _The classics_. "Well, haven't I got just the thing for you!" He exclaimed and handed me two novels and then moved down the row, handing me another one.

I eyed the three heavy books, and then looked at him, shocked. "I, uh, was only going to buy one today, Darley. I have lessons to prepare for school!" I said sheepishly.

He stopped going down the aisle and smiled a wide grin. "Ya didn't tell me ya got that fancy professor job at that school of yers!" He said proudly.

I smiled, and straightened my posture. "Of course! I got the letter a couple of weeks ago, but, I…forgot." I finished lamely. "I've been…re-reading the Brontës." I said quietly, avoiding his warm stare.

He exhaled, shaking his head, and came closer. "You know what that gothic era rubbish does to ya brain, love! Why ya force yerself ta re-read and re-read when there's much cheerier books out thar?" He asked, putting his hands on my shoulders.

I looked at him, sighed and looked away. "I know, I know, but I love the Brontës. You know that. They make me feel, well, normal." I stated, but then cheered up for him. "I will follow your advice and read these three, scouts honor." I smiled, and held up my three fingers in the sign of a truce.

He huffed and walked past me, mumbling something about 'bloody Brontës' and 'errant obsessions'. I laughed at his temper and followed him back to the counter. "How much do I owe you?" I asked, reaching for my wallet in the bag at my side.

He stared at me as if I was a unicorn. "Oh, no ya don't! Ya don't owe me anythin! Yer me most loyal customer!" He spouted, and pushed the books towards me.

I smiled, this man made my day. "Ok, I will take these just this once, but next time, I'm not only paying, but I'm also bringing you some well deserved chips." I smiled, and put the books in my bag.

He laughed and walked away from the counter. "You have a good day, lass. An, congrats on this professing job 'a yers." He said as I watched him return to the stack of books.

I smiled at his back and walked out, retrieving my sunglasses from my bag. _Today_ I thought _is going to be a good day._

I decided on a cup of tea from my favorite teashop around the corner. Tea made things better, especially the aching, nagging hunger I had for anything other than carrots, which was the only food I had decided on eating for the last two weeks. Hence the loss of weight.

I opened the small teashop door, put my order in and found a small table to sit at next to the window. Pulling my bag up onto the tabletop, I took a look at what Darley had given me. This was the game we played.

I went to his store, told him what kind of mood I was in, or to surprise me, and he'd pull mysterious novels off his shelves, sell them to me and have me read them with the intention of my return for another book and a long discussion over the previous novel. The system had worked well for the last eight years. Except when I got in my Brontë mood. Then, nothing could fix that except a long night of Catherine and Heathcliff. I looked at the spines of the old novels Darley had pulled and raised my eyebrows. _The man knows his novels._ I thought. _Or me._

In my bag was _Dead souls, _a personal favorite of Darley's, I believe, by Nikolai Gogol, _Bleak house_ by Dickens, and _Vanity fair_, another by Dickens. I smiled appreciatively and put them back in my bag when the shop boy came with my tea. He stared at me a little too long when I gave him a weak smile, but then bustled off clumsily to the counter.

I smirked at my effect on him, but then had a sneering thought. _At least someone still thinks you're pretty. _I frowned. It always came back to this.

I wasn't sure if I'd be able to be normal again after Draco's confession. _Were you ever normal?_

Well, no, of course not. But, I wasn't _ab_normal either. I was brought up wanting nothing, in a very well off pureblood family that had a reputation to uphold. And, in order to uphold said reputation, I had to forgo some experiences that most people would consider 'normal'. We never had a family Christmas, for example. I was never able to floo, or firecall, my parents abhorred anything that would result in _dirtiness_.

And due to this…culture, if you have it, I had a certain mindset that was imprinted in me that I was better than everyone. It wasn't until my sixth year at Hogwarts, that I actually realized this was utter rubbish. After Draco got his dark mark, everything changed.

The war changed all of us. Witnessing your professors and childhood friends dying in front of you tends to do that. There no longer was a _better_ person. You either stood for what was good, what was _right_, or you didn't. And, whatever side you chose, you had to stick with.

I chose the side that Draco did, naturally. We didn't know better. Draco never told me that his family's life hung over his head. He never told me what that…_monster_ made him do. I simply followed him because wherever he was, that's where I wanted to be. It wasn't until I was without him my seventh year at Hogwarts that I figured it out. I realized what I had done, how many lives I would be risking by changing my mind. So, I stuck with what fear told me to do. I stuck with my family, with Draco.

I was naïve to think that Voldemort would spare my family after having chosen to follow him, to think that I would be able to live normally if _he_ won. And, after shouting at McGonagall to hand over Potter, having the entire Slytherin house evacuated outside, and watching Voldemort murder my father in front of me to test my faith, I decided I was wrong.

I was so wrong.

And, maybe I was wrong about Draco too. Maybe he deserved…Ginny.

I shook my head, wanting to clear it of anything war related, and took a sip of my hot pomegranate tea. I sat, staring out the shop window, when I caught a familiar face in the reflection from behind me.

Sloppy, unkempt black hair, a straight nose, handsome jaw, and striking green eyes covered by ridiculous spectacles stood behind me, chatting up some muggle that was working on a laptop.

I froze, making sure to pack my bag slowly, and inconspicuously. He didn't need to see me, or speak to me. I had had a pretty bad two weeks, this would be the icing on the cake. So, I stood, quickly downing the remnants of my teacup and started towards the door, when I ran straight into a muggle and landed on my bum. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and had my backside slightly sore from the hard ground. My books flew out of my messenger bag and landed with a loud thump on the noisy tile floor.

I wanted to curse the boy into last year, but decided against it and stole a look at Potter, just to make sure I still had avoided his attention, but he was staring at me with alarm, and confusion…until I saw recognition hit his features.

Potter recognized me.

Bloody hell.

I made to gather my things from the floor. My books had flown under a nearby table, and my wand was in the open, near the dumb muggle's foot. I glared up at him, soaking in his alarmed expression and got to my knees, gathering first my wand, which caused him to give me a quizzical look, and then my books.

As I reached for _Vanity fair_, a hand collided with mine. I looked up, ready to use all of the silent curses I had been taught growing up when I realized Potter had bent down to help me with my things. I jumped back from his helping hand and grabbed the book quickly, making sure to keep my eyes down.

"Sorry, excuse me." I mumbled, finally getting to my feet with everything in my bag.

"Pansy?" Potter asked, with a deep voice and an amused look.

I snapped my head up, surprised of his use of my first name and glared at him. "I'm sorry?" I said venomously. "I dunno who that is. I'm Renée." I lied, turning around and pushing the clumsy muggle who caused this out of my way.

Once outside, I began walking towards my flat fervently, until I heard the shop door open and footsteps follow. "I'm definitely sure that you're Pansy Parkinson." Potter said from behind me.

I stopped on the sidewalk, turned towards him and smirked. "Prove it." I sneered, amused at his alarmed look. He's still scared of me. Good.

He raised a hand to the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. "Drop the act, Parkinson. I saw your wand."

My face fell. Damn. I blinked several times, attempting to find an answer and went for the first thing that crossed my mind. "What do you want, Potter?" I asked, looking him over.

He hadn't changed much in the face, still annoyingly handsome. He had grown a bit taller, and muscular. _He's attractive now._ I thought with surprise. "I, uh, just saw you in the shop and thought it'd be-erm-polite of me to say something. You know, because we were-eh-school mates and all." He finished awkwardly.

I smirked again, amused at the awkward silence, but then something occurred to me. "What are you doing in muggle London?" I asked straightly. Last time I read the _Daily Prophet_, he was busy rounding up stray death eaters as an auror for the ministry.

He looked up, surprised at the turn of the conversation. "I was just about to ask you the same thing." _Like it's any of your business._ "I'm here for the summer, with friends." He finished, looking around awkwardly.

I nodded, thinking. "I've lived in the city for a while. I'll be staying here until August, then I'll be going to Hogwarts." I finished, a smirk on my lips. It was weird to say that out loud.

He looked at me, now interested. "Hogwarts? Like, our school Hogwarts?" He asked stupidly.

"The only Hogwarts there is, Potter." I snapped.

He took a step back, alarmed by my tone, but didn't look away from me. "Are you going to be a professor there?" he asked.

I nodded, annoyed by him already. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I am. I'll be teaching Charms." I said proudly.

He nodded slowly, seeming to contemplate what I had said. Then, he looked up, a sloppy grin on his handsome face. I instantly scowled. "I'm starting this term as the Defense against the dark arts professor." He said.

My jaw dropped, and my eyes weirdly began to water. "Oh." Was all I said as the anger seeped into my hands. I balled them into fists.

"Yeah, I'm pretty excited." He said, either ignoring my anger or completely oblivious to it.

I turned around then, and continued my trip to my flat. I heard him mumble something out of my hearing range and then chuckle. "See you then, _Renée_." He said with amusement.

I made an obscene gesture with my left middle finger back at him as I stomped back to my flat. Although meant to offend, my gesture only sent him into further hysterics as he let out a fresh laugh.

I was glad to be away from him once I returned to my flat. Bloody Potter. He was still insufferable.

I considered quitting momentarily. _Should I owl McGonagall?_ I thought once I was on my soft brown sofa.

There was no way I'd ever get another opportunity like this. I had to be a professor. _Maybe if I'm lucky, the Defense against the dark arts professor curse will come back_. I thought happily, mentally clapping my hands and scheming a plot.

I fell asleep on my sofa dreaming happily of pushing Potter into the Great Lake, or letting the Womping Willow get a hold of him.

Sweet dreams, indeed.

* * *

I waited another week before I contacted Draco.

I had just finished _Dead souls_ and _Bleak house_, and I didn't have the strength to stay in and read another book, as tempting as _Vanity fair_ was.

I needed to know that I still had him, as a friend that is, because I had recently come to the realization that I would never have him as anything else. And, although it hurt me more than I would have liked to admit, never seeing or speaking to Draco would have hurt me worse, so I decided to put my big girl knickers on and break our three weeks of silence.

It began with an owl. I had been to Diagon Alley recently, picking up study books and materials for my upcoming job, and decided to buy an owl while I was there, it seemed like a logical purchase.

So, after making several drafts of a long letter to him that just ended up being a long list of everything that was wrong with his choice of Ginny Weasley, I decided on a more timid approach, and ended up sending him one word:

Hey.

I wrote. Looking it over, dusting off invisible smudge, I quickly rolled it up and tied it to my new owl's leg.

"Can you take this to Draco?" I asked politely.

I had decided on a relatively small, brown elf owl with intricate white and grey markings on her back. She had a small beak, and wide, vast green eyes that looked at me expectantly. I smiled at her as she held out her leg and I tied the roll of parchment to it. With one chirp, she hopped along the arm of my sofa and flew out the window.

I began to grow worried that she wasn't able to find Draco when she had been gone for a week, but was suddenly relieved when I heard her tapping her beak on the living area window, equipped with a piece of rolled parchment tied to her leg. I smiled, let her in, pet her head and took the roll from her.

Hey.

It said. I smiled, running my fingers over Draco's articulate handwriting.

It then excelled to texts on our mobile phones. After getting his owl back, I grabbed my mobile phone from my messenger bag and typed a quick message and then hit send.

I'm sorry.

I typed, waiting for a reply. My mobile vibrated immediately with Draco's reply.

Me too.

I smiled, held the phone up to my chest and exhaled. I wanted to see him so badly. I needed to see him. To make sure we were okay…whatever we are.

I then called him, not expecting him to answer, but he picked up the phone after just three rings. "Pansy." He breathed. It was a relieved tone, I noticed.

"Draco." I mimicked his tone, equally relieved. "I miss you, and I'm sorry, and I have no right to judge." I blurted out, just wanting him to be my friend again.

I heard his soft chuckle before he inhaled and said, "I miss you too, Pansy. More than I should. And, I'm sorry too, I was a complete arse."

I nodded, and then remembered he couldn't see me. "For your information, I am nodding right about now." I said, smirking.

He chuckled, and I could picture him smirking. "And I'm smirking, but you probably knew that." He said. I knew him too well.

"Can I see you?" I asked, hopeful. There was so much I needed to tell him. So many books to discuss.

He sighed sadly and I could picture him shaking his head. "I have a lot of work to do, and I promised to go meet Gin-um, I am busy tonight. Maybe tomorrow?" He finished weakly.

I frowned. I didn't like him lying to me, he'd become so bad at it. "It's ok, you know. To talk about her. I'm your friend. That's what friends do. Talk about things." I stated.

He sighed again, and then said "I don't want to make you angry. I don't want to go another three weeks without talking to you either."

That hurt. Not because of the emotion in his voice, but because it was _me_ that broke the silence in the first place. It was _me_ that was being avoided. It was _me_ that couldn't get over him. "I know. Me either." I said quietly. "What are you doing tonight, Draco? Just tell me."

"I'm meeting Ginny's parents." He stated simply. I could hear a bit of nervousness.

I nodded to myself and allowed my fingers to cling tightly to the phone I was holding. "Oh." Was all I said.

"Yeah." He said weakly. And then changed the subject. "I have to go, Pansy, but I promise I'll talk to you tomorrow." He said in finality.

I couldn't breath for a few seconds as we hung on the line, and then it blurted out of me like word vomit, desperately trying to keep him talking to me. Anything to keep him on the phone. "I got the job at Hogwarts. I'm going to be the new Charms professor." It all came out so fast, I'm sure it sounded like nonsense, but I could hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Pansy." He gasped. "Oh, I mean, _Professor_ Parkinson." He said, I could hear the smile in his voice.

I was still having trouble breathing, but I made an attempt at a laugh, it sounded more like a snort. "That's me." I said weakly.

He laughed quietly and then exhaled. "Congratulations, beautiful friend." He said.

I blinked. There was a major case of déja vu here. _It's what you wanted him to say to you that night._ I thought. Oh. Well, this had turned out interestingly.

I smiled then, small, if not weakly and murmured thanks. He chuckled again and we said our goodbyes. He promised to call, or owl, or floo the next day, and I agreed I'd make an attempt at some sort of contact before we hung up.

I kept the phone to my ear after he hung up and listened to the silence. He was gone, but I didn't want him to be. I missed him already. How is it possible for another person to effect someone like this?

It isn't possible. Completely irrational, actually.

I sighed, turned on the telly, and watched a show for a bit, but didn't really pay attention.

_Congratulations, beautiful friend._ He had said. I could imagine him smiling proudly at me. With that look. His Pansy look.

But, it wasn't just mine anymore.

I fell asleep, wondering idly if he gave Ginny Weasley that look too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** - I do not, in any way, shape or form, own any of these characters, settings or themes. They all belong to the wonder that is J.K. Rowling!

_Author's note: _I am SO sorry for taking so long to post. I wrote this almost immediately after I had posted the second chapter, but couldn't find a way to end it without it being...well...wonky. I eventually decided that I would rather the end be wonky than work on it anymore! So, here it is! Nothing really progresses, but we get a little further in the time line.

Enjoy!

* * *

He met her _parents_.

I couldn't help but sneer as I lay in bed the next day, having slept in until somewhere around 3 in the afternoon, staring at the ceiling, and running through the previous day. The thought was like one of mums old muggle records that just kept skipping, with rusty stubbornness.

It was obvious Draco had been desperate to speak to me by the way he had answered my call, but, he hadn't even been able to tell me, out right at least, his plans for the day. I frowned, threw my left arm over my eyes, and sighed in frustration.

_And he thinks girls are confusing?_ I thought, exasperatedly. _Why are you so surprised? This is _Draco Malfoy_ we're talking about here: king of Confusion._

At this thought, I sat straight up, staring ahead, and smirked, _that's it._ My smirk fell into a silly grin as my head fell back onto my pillow, impressed with my reasoning skills.

"Your pretty little face will stay like that if you keep that smarmy expression for too long." Came a quiet comment from my doorway.

I sat straight up, and then smirked when I saw the person my mind was battling on about, leaning nonchalantly against my doorframe to my left, clad in an expensive looking all black suit with a matching tie and shirt beneath. He was examining his perfect fingernails with a slight smirk. _It's not fair how beautiful he is._

My mouth went dry as I took in his long legs wrapped in the dark cloth, but feasted on his best feature, the liquid silver eyes that now looked at me in amusement. He was saying something, which I completely ignored, as I bolted out of bed and into his arms, pushing him back slightly with the force of my embrace.

He didn't hug me back, he never did, but his chest did hum with his laughter as he rested his chin on the top of my head. "Pansy," He said, straining to speak around my tight squeezing.

"Mmm?" I mumbled incoherently, inhaling his cologne, lost in the coolness of his body.

"Are you aware of your clothing right now…or lack thereof?" He asked, attempting to push me off of him.

I grudgingly let go, placing a sneer on my face, intending to say a smart remark when I decided to follow his eyes down my body. I felt the back of my neck flush as I realized I was only in a lacy, black bra and a matching pair of lacy knickers. I looked back up into his steely gaze. "My bad." I said, grinning sheepishly.

And, that's when an idea came to me. Draco had seen me in various states of undressed before; I wasn't shy in front of him at all. So, I grabbed a small, white cotton t-shirt from my closet, and slipped it on as I headed past him in my doorway to the kitchen. It was a cool morning, and I had left the window in my living area open so Owl could fly and hunt with ease. I shivered a bit, but decided against putting pants on at the moment as I came to my refrigerator.

"Want lunch, Draco?" I asked, opening the cooler door and leaning over, examining the contents.

I hadn't heard him follow me from my bedroom, but I could hear his sharp intake of breath as he entered the kitchen, in full view of me bending over. He didn't speak for a few seconds, in which he was most likely staring at me, but when he did speak, his voice was annoyingly controlled, not at all effected by my attempt to seduce him.

"I know what you're doing." He said.

I stood, and composed myself. "I don't know what you're talking about." I said, still with my back to him.

I could hear him exhale through his nose slowly. "Look, Pansy…you know I love you-"

"No you don't." I snapped, turning to him. "Don't say things you don't mean, Draco."

He stared at me for a minute, muscle clenching in his jaw, and then finally dropped his gaze to the floor, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea." He said, glancing at the door.

I panicked, then. "No!" I gasped, jumping in front of the entrance to the kitchen. "Please, Draco, please don't leave again." I begged. Embarrassing tears were forming in my eyes.

He backed away from me, most likely afraid of my oncoming emotion, but stayed silent, staring.

We stayed that way for a bit, both staring at each other. The room was silent, only a mere chill of wind blowing from my open window.

And then, with an excited chirp, Owl flew through the open window and landed on the perch. Both of our heads snapped to her with surprise. It was a moment before either of us said anything, but finally Draco spoke. "You got an owl?" He seemed surprised.

"Yeah, I decided I would need one while at Hogwarts. You didn't notice her when I sent you the letter?"

I stood watching Owl chirp and look around the room. Not daring to even glance at Draco, I walked to the windowsill, shut it, and gave Owl a pat on the head, earning another chirp.

"I would have pegged you more as a cat person, is all." Draco said, still looking at Owl.

"Well, Owl was cute when I saw her in the shop, and I wanted to avoid the whole 'old spinster and her cat whom she speaks to because she doesn't have any friends' look." I shrugged.

Draco laughed, amused. "You named your owl…Owl?"

I looked at him finally, confused. "I haven't named her anything…yet. 'Owl' is what I call her because I can't decide on a name." It made sense to me.

He nodded, smirking, and looked around my flat. I took this time to look at him, his face, and his hands. He looked happy, healthy. I took his silence as his desire to leave having gone, so I decided to walk to my room and slip on a pair of very muggle blue jeans that slightly sagged around my hips.

As I walked out of the bedroom, Draco looked me over with a frown. "What?" I asked.

His brow furrowed. "You look different." It wasn't a question.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around my torso, suddenly self-conscious. "You look sick. Have you been ok?" He asked blankly.

I looked at him in shock, sucked in a deep breath, and then shook my head. "It's nothing." I said, then turned to him, noticing what I had failed to mention when he had showed up. "How did you get here…?"

He sat down on the sofa, crossing his ankles and picking at invisible lint on his expensive slacks. "I apparated. Your floo network isn't working." He said, frowning and concentrating on his invisible lint.

_What is wrong with you?_ I sat down on the sofa arm farthest away from him, slightly dizzy. "I'm sorry." I mumbled, unable to think of anything else to say. I didn't remember turning it off.

"Pansy," Draco said, looking at me finally. "I want us to be ok again."

Something in my stomach lurched. I bit back the sudden urge to puke, and smiled weakly. "Yeah."

His soft expression hardened at my voice as he stood, throwing an exasperated hand in his hair. He began to pace. "I don't want what I'm doing to affect us in anyway. I need you." He said. "We've been friends for so long." He stopped, looked at me shortly, and then continued his pacing.

I swallowed, nodding. The urge to puke was increasing. "I left you three weeks ago, expecting you to call me or owl me the _next day_. But, when you didn't, I thought stupidly that I wouldn't be the one to _lose._ Ginny kept telling me I was being a right out prat." He snarled. The nausea was blinding. "So, when you owled me, I was so _relieved_. I wanted to see you so badly." He said, emotion that I couldn't place, rising in his voice. I was definitely going to puke. "Then, I show up, and I find you in bed with a chummy look on your face, and you're as thin as a stick, after you sounded perfectly fine on the mobile." He stopped, looking at my face, my arms, and then my legs. "What did I _do_ to you?" He asked.

I stood then, was that splashing I heard in my stomach, or just my imagination? "Nothing, Draco. I'm fine." I said weakly. Bile began to rise in my throat. "I should lie down-" I began, when everything went black.

* * *

I woke up with a pounding headache, and an older, 24-year-old version, of Ginny Weasley sitting on my bed, patting a cool washcloth on my forehead. When my eyes focused, I stared at her a bit. She was humming a soft tune, and she smiled warmly when she saw that I was awake.

"Pansy?" She asked softly. "Oh, good, you're awake. I'm Ginny." She said with a soft smile. "I don't think we've been introduced." She said, patting my arm. Her hands were warm and soft. I wanted to hit her.

"How are you feeling?" She asked as her warm brown eyes looked at me.

I squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze, suddenly wanting to get away from her. _Thought you'd get chummy with me to get to Draco, eh? _I mentally sneered, huffing out loud. I glared at her. "Fine." I lied. My voice sounded horrible.

She smiled again, motioning to a glass of water by my bed. She began to say something, but I wasn't paying attention, I couldn't help but look at her, she was so bleeding beautiful.

I didn't remember much of her from school. She was always hiding behind Granger, and when she wasn't, she was hexing my housemates with her famous and lethal bat bogey hex, so I had reason to avoid her. But, I did notice her transformation since then. She had soft looking creamy skin with a light dusting of brown freckles everywhere. She was thin and tall, soft. Her face was heart shaped, and bright, kind. Her hair was long, almost like a mane, and ginger, like the rest of her family, that I could remember.

_Why did you grow up to be such a gorgeous bint?_ I thought as she smiled at me again and then stood to leave my room. Why was she here? I watched her as she moved around my large bed to the door, but finally found my voice just as she had her hand on the doorknob. "Why are you here?" I asked, more like croaked, confused.

She froze, nearly out of my room, but turned to me, smiling. _Merlin, stop that._ "Draco sent his patronus when you fainted." She said. _Oh._ "I'm a healer at St. Mungos, he said he couldn't think of anyone else." She said, apologetically.

I nodded, dumbfounded and looked down at my hands. _He said he couldn't think of anyone else._ "Oh." I said.

She chuckled softly, and sat down on the edge of my bed. "I suppose this is awkward for you." She said, gesturing around the room with her hands lightly.

I stared at her for a second, then around the room, confused, but then realized what she meant. "Oh…ha ha…um, not at all." I lied. "Thank you." I said. "I guess I should eat more." I murmured sheepishly.

She seemed shocked by my thanks for a moment, but then shrugged and smiled again. "It's the least I can do. Draco cares so much about you, Pansy." She smiled sweetly at me, the edges of her eyes crinkling, and then got up again. "Feel better, ok?" She said.

I nodded, smiling awkwardly. "And…try to eat something, dear, he might not admit it, but Draco is very concerned about your weight loss." She said before she left my room.

I stared after her, shocked.

_Draco sent his patronus when you fainted_. She had said.

I glared at the far wall of my bedroom ahead, gripping my blanket so hard that my knuckles were white.

_He said he couldn't think of anyone else._ I hated him at that moment. I had decided I hated Draco Malfoy so much, so fervently, and then heard a light tap at my door.

I whipped my head in that direction, a glare planted on my face for Weasley, but instead glared at Draco. He was looking at me with caution. He was nervous. _Good._ "Pansy," He began, stepping slowly into my room, around my bed.

I followed him with my eyes, noticing he had removed his suit jacket and tie, but kept my glare deadly. "Couldn't think of _anyone else_?" I said menacingly soft.

His eyes widened at my tone. He swallowed loudly and then ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, Pansy, she's the best healer at St. Mungos." He said quietly, quickly. "You couldn't have been in better hands."

I sat up, intending to wring his neck, until I felt a pang of dizziness, and decided on another set of Antarctic looks instead. "What were you thinking bringing her here? Do you not have a _brain_ in that incredibly _thick_ skull of yours?" I spat.

He sat on the end of my bed carefully. I wanted to kick him off, but thought against moving, afraid of spent energy. "I don't understand the problem here-" He began.

"You _git_-"

"No, listen, Pansy." He said quietly. I set my mouth as a thin line, biting back the curses I wanted to throw at him. The main one an unforgivable. "We were speaking civilly, but then you grew pale, and sat down hurriedly. You looked dead, you were so pale, and then you just _fainted_." He said, gesturing animatedly to my laying down form in my bed. "I looked at you and panicked. I couldn't think straight! I didn't even think to put to mind your unreasonable anger at Gin-Weasley." He finished, scoffing at me, but avoiding my glare.

I stared at him bewildered. _How is it possible to be that daft?_ "It is not unreasonable." I mumbled, looking for my wand to hex him with ugly boils so he wouldn't be beautiful anymore.

He snorted. "Yes. It is." He got up then, and came to sit next to me, touching the rag on my forehead. "You're lucky she was able to come." He continued with a smug look on his face. "It was either her, or I was going to keep hexing you until you woke up."

I sneered at him and punched him as hard as I could in my weak state on his arm, which just caused another dizzy spell. "You are the worst person ever." I mumbled, crossing my arms across my chest and pouting.

He laughed and ruffled my hair. "You mean the _sexiest_." I bit my lip in an attempt to hold back my agreement. Even in my dizzy and groggy state, Draco was still the most beautiful person in my life. "But, on a serious subject," He said, looking me sternly in the eye. "What did you think of her?"

I looked at him, startled by his sudden question.

What did I think of her? "Well," I started, thinking of her bright, smiling, kind face and her beautiful ginger hair and sighed. "I think she's pretty." I said, avoiding his eyes, wringing my hands.

He snorted. "I could've told you that."

I hit him on his arm again and ignored the pang of nausea I got from the movement. _What do I think of Ginny Weasley?_

"She was very…nice." I offered. This whole subject made my chest hurt.

He nodded. "You'll love her too, eventually."

I glanced at him, and then looked back at my hands, wanting to throw the blanket over my head and suffocate. Anything to avoid this conversation. "Yeah." I mumbled, uncomfortable, clutching at my chest, wanting to claw the pain away.

He climbed into bed with me, then, and laid down beside me on his back. I wrapped myself around him, my head on his chest, and my arm across his body. "You scared me." He said after a while.

I desperately tried to keep my nose away from his throat, but couldn't resist inhaling his cologne. "She left?" I asked once my heart slowed enough to allow me to think coherently.

I felt him nod. I tried not to think about it, but couldn't keep the image of Weasley smiling at me out of my head. She was desperately beautiful. I fell asleep with my head on his chest, his cologne surrounding me, and his steady heartbeat under my ear. I smiled as I imagined Narcissa frowning as she met the beautiful Ginny Weasley.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Draco and my headache were gone. I stared at where he had been for a moment, and then decided to get up. I stripped out of my jeans and put on a sloppy pair of sweats and tied my hair up in a ponytail I found on my bedside table. I paused when I saw the glass of water Weasley had left me.

_So it was real._ I thought, grimacing and clutching my chest.

I read _Vanity fair_ until the silence became boring. With a wave of my wand, the small stereo in the living area began to hum to life and play more muggle jazz.

I got up from the inviting sofa and went to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and then remembered the identical glass in my bedroom. I frowned down at the clear liquid in the cup I was holding and went to retrieve the other glass from my room.

As I poured the water from it down the sink, I was reminded of Weasley's kindness towards me, which caused me to frown further. _You're supposed to hate her._

I showered, got dressed in a simple white shirt and jean shorts and decided to go to the teashop again. Tea fixed everything.

I flinched as a loud knock interrupted my planning. A part of me was slightly startled by the foreign noise. I barely ever had people knocking on my door.

Draco preferred to apparated of floo. The last time, before I had feinted, was one of the first times he had used the muggle way of entering.

I glanced at Owl in her cage and took her to my room, shushing her as she began to chirp loudly, then walked to the door to answer.

"Oh, hey, Pansy, love!" My muggle neighbor, Elizabeth, said cheerily.

I smiled; shocked that she was at my door. We barely spoke. For good reason, though. She made me want to bash my head against a nearby wall with her shrill voice and her constantly over-cheerful mood. The woman drove me mad.

I looked down at her feet and frowned at the large black dog there.

"Erm, hey, Elizabeth. What can I do you for?" I asked, eyeing the dog again.

She smiled at me, "I have to go to the hospital in Chiswick, and I was wondering if you could watch Fluffy here?" She asked, gesturing to the black dog at her side, which was looking at me with large brown eyes, much like Weasley's. I didn't like it at all.

I was thinking '_Fluffy is the most generic dog name in the entire world.'_ when she got a call on her mobile and looked at me with urgent blue eyes. "Please, Pansy. I'm begging you. It will only be an hour, two tops." She said.

I eyed the black dog again with distaste, not liking the way it stuck it's tongue out at me and began breathing loudly, but then remembered that I needed to make an effort to seem like a normal, muggle person to my neighbors, so I kneeled, and stuffed my fingers into the fur around Fluffy's ears and rubbed. "Ok, ok. Go. I'll take care of Floppy."

"Fluffy!" She corrected, smiling and running down the stairs to the ground floor. "Thank you!" She yelled up the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah." I muttered, straightening and stepping aside to give the dog room to come inside. But he sat outside the door, looking up at me expectantly. I glared at him, and pointed behind me.

"Get in here, you loaf." I spat.

Fliffy made a whimpering sound from the back of his throat and turned his head the direction Elizabeth had gone, then back to me, whimpering again.

"No. She's gone. I'm here now. Get. In. Here. Dog." I said through gritted teeth.

Frumpy laid down over the threshold with his head on his paws and looked up at me. I was tempted to growl at him, but thought better, and walked toward him.

"Do you want to go for a walk, Flippy?" I asked, mockingly sweet.

Flappy stood, cocked his head to the side and stuck his tongue out at me again. I smirked, grabbed my messenger bag from the entryway table, closed the door behind me, and picked up Flinty's leash.

* * *

The dog was everywhere as we walked. He sniffed the sidewalk, street signs, and people. He dragged me down the sidewalk, occasionally allowing me to catch up before dragging me down the street again.

Finally, with a great huff, he stopped and sniffed a patch of grass.

I took a moment to drag heavy breaths into my abandoned lungs as the dog smelled. The part of muggle London that we had ended up in was unfamiliar to me.

Across the street was a large, dingy Chinese restaurant, and on mine and Floopy's side, was a comic book store with cardboard cutouts of various people in the windows. I shrugged and looked down at Freddy, only to gasp and nudge him with my right shoe.

The dog had left…waste on the grass. I glared at Frompy and looked around us. No one was around to see his crime, but I knew better than to leave it there. I threw an angry look at Ferny, grabbed my wand, conjured a plastic bag, and begrudgingly levitated the waste into the bag and then tied it up, plugging my nose. The dog was disgusting.

I stood, stuffed my wand back into my bag, and searched for a trashbin. Looking down the street, I noticed one at the corner near the wall of another restaurant. I pulled Frosty along with me, making sure the plastic bag was as far in front of me as possible, still plugging my nose.

Walking down the sidewalk, I kept my eyes on my goal trashbin, but then heard my name being called, and, turning my head in the direction of the voice, instantly regretted it. Walking across the street with an amused expression on his face was Harry Potter, along with a group of people I didn't recognize.

I froze, closed my eyes and hoped it was a nightmare. _There's no way this can actually be happening._ I thought, opening my eyes to see I was wrong. Potter walked up to me, then, and smiled a sloppy grin. "_Pansy_." he drawled, eying the dog that was sitting at my feet.

I closed my eyes in frustration, cursing my neighbor Elizabeth. "Potter." I said, turning and walking towards the trashbin again, making sure to hide the plastic bag from his eyes.

He chuckled and jogged to keep up with me, "Hey, hey. I've come in peace." He said, sloppy grin in place.

I glared at the trashbin, now nearer, cursing it, too, for being so far away. "Good. Then you can go away in peace, too." I snarled, finally reaching my goal and tossing the plastic bag in with disdain.

Potter looked at me, amused. "I didn't nab you for a dog person, Parkinson."

I leaned to the side, looking around him to his friends, and eyed them suspiciously. "Are your friends muggles?" I whispered.

Potter seemed confused for a moment, and then turned to his group momentarily before returning his gaze back to me and nodding. "Yeah, why?" he asked, brow furrowed.

I frowned. "Damn. I was hoping I could hex you without muggle witnesses." I murmured.

He laughed and then eyed Fonzy again. "But, seriously…you have a dog…?"

I glared down at the black nuisance and shook my head. "Not that it's any of your business, but, no, I do not. Freaky is my neighbors dog."

Potter seemed confused. "Freaky?"

I shrugged. "Anyway, although I enjoyed this conversation far _too much_, I think Finny and I will be heading back." I said, turning back the way we had come.

It only took a few seconds for Potter to catch up with me again, but when he did, he fell into step with Foozy and I. "Who's Finny?" He asked laughing.

I glared at him and pointed to the dog. He seemed confused again. "You just said his name was Freaky…" He murmured.

I shook my head. "Who would name their pet Freaky?" I asked, stopping.

Potter stopped shortly after I did and seemed confused. _He's incredibly daft._ "Are you stalking me, or am I installed with your own little tracking charm?" I asked, looking at him sternly.

He chuckled, gesturing to his friends. "I can't help it if I have such an incredible social life." He said. "I am _the boy who lived_, you know. Everyone wants a piece of me." He said arrogantly, leaning in and wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I scowled at him. "I've decided I hate everything about you."

His grin fell, he looked hurt, I knew better than to take him seriously. "Now, _Renée_, you wound me." He said, putting a hand over his muscular chest.

I rolled my eyes; he was, possibly, more annoying than my younger brother. "Are you done harassing me in front of your little muggles, now, Golden boy?" I sneered.

He smiled. "I release you from my sight, wench."

I showed him the obscene gesture I had given him last time, again causing him to erupt into laugher, and continued the way Funny and I had come.

* * *

After an hour of wandering around the city, I found my flat building again. When I got to my door, Elizabeth was pacing with worry. She looked up and smiled a wide smile at the pair of us.

"How was Fluffy?" She asked bending down to give his head a pat.

_Who's Fluffy? _"Just _fine._" I said handing her his leash and walking to my door.

"Oh, good! Well, thank you again. There was this emergency with my aunt from Chiswick, who got a shovel stuck-" I shut my door on Elizabeth and went to retrieve Owl from my bedroom, letting her out and giving her a pat on the head and a stroke on the back.

"Your name will never be _Fluffy_ or whatever." I promised her from the kitchen.

I took out the bag of carrots in my fridge and absent mindedly chewed on one as I thought about leaving muggle London for Hogwarts in two weeks.

A surge of excitement went through me as I thought about the warm castle nestled in the hills of the beautiful Scottish countryside. I ached for the wizarding world. Although I loved the flat I owned in muggle London, I still considered the magical world I grew up in home. And, there in the muggle world, not being able to use magic outside of my flat, I felt constricted, and alone.

After putting the carrots back in the cooler, I took out my wand, relished in the familiar feel of the soft, worn wood beneath my palm, and said "_Accio teabags_." I brewed a cup of tea, using magic to dip the tea bag in and out, spreading the tea throughout the hot water.

I smiled into my teacup as I set my wand on the side table by the sofa, sat down and began to read _Vanity fair_.

I read until I finished and decided I needed to go back to Darley soon to get a few new novels before I left.

After I made sure the door was locked and Owl was in her cage, I apparated to The Leaky Cauldron and walked in. It was the same ruddy place as always, and as I greeted Tom, I felt as if I was back in a place I belonged.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** - I do not, in any way, shape or form, own any of these characters, settings or themes. They all belong to the wonder that is J.K. Rowling!

_Author's note: _So, in a sort of apology for not uploading for so long, I decided to upload chapter four now. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

"That will be two galleons, miss." The clerk man at Potage's cauldron shop said with a smile.

I jumped out of my reverie and handed him two galleons from a pouch I kept in my bag. He smiled as he handed me the small copper kettle I had just bought.

As I turned to exit the store, I instantly froze. Walking down the street just past the shop I was in were the two people I had no desire to see together. Ever.

I hid behind a shelf full of different size cauldrons and their price stands, causing a few loud crashes as three slammed against the floor. I winced as the sound echoed through the small building. The shopkeeper gave me an icy glare but said nothing as he picked them up while ushering in new customers. I murmured apologies, holding my hands up in defense, and then turned back to the couple.

They had stopped, per Weasley's pulling of Draco's arm, to look at a window display in the shop across from mine. I watched as Draco slid his hand down the length of her arm and finally claimed her hand in his as they talked animatedly about something.

The desire to hit her was still present and from what I could see, Draco was dressed in all black robes. He looked healthy, and happy. His expression made my chest hurt again.

Ginny looked as beautiful as I could remember. _Bloody bint_. I thought as the shopkeeper urged me to get out of his store if I wasn't going to buy anything else. I complied, and exited, keeping my back to the storefront, watching Weasley point to something in the store excitedly.

I had a few more errands to run, but I couldn't risk them seeing me. As I crept along the length of the wall of Potage's, I kept an eye on their movement until I was saved by way of an alley to my left.

When I said saved, I meant I fell on my arse. In a dirty alley. This caused me to let out a string of surprised curses as my bum hit the ground. Which, in turn, caused the passersby to whip their heads in my direction.

I wouldn't have ended up with my face rivaling tomatoes if the passersby hadn't been the two people I was adamantly avoiding. Draco's expression was pure amusement. Weasley was nice enough to break her hold on him and rush to help me up.

I pushed away her attempts to touch me and got up, with much pain in backside, and glared at the red head. "I'm _fine_. Bloody hell." I said, dusting myself off and looking anywhere but at my supposed friend's mocking smirk.

It was silent for a moment as Draco took me in, taking care not to grab Weasley's hand again, I noticed. He ended up planting a smirk on his perfect mouth as I finally decided he deserved a nice glare.

"Shut up." I said, pushing past the two of them and making my way, limping slightly, to the next store on my list.

With his long legs, it took Draco all of ten seconds to catch up with me. I was tempted to send a hex his way that would make him the size of a goblin, but that would have been frowned upon in public. I settled for another glare, and heavy breathing as his smirk stayed still.

"Pansy, dear, what the _hell_ are you doing here?" Draco asked, grimacing at my now dirty muggle clothes.

Weasley caught up with us finally, and pushed Draco away, examining me with her feather light fingers and deep brown eyes. "Are you ok, Pansy? From the looks of it, you fell pretty hard."

I purposely ignored the chuckling coming from an insufferable blonde to my right as I shrugged the red head's helping hands off of me.

"Yes, I'm fine." I said, still pushing her insistent hands off. "Stop touching me!" I finally growled.

A hurt look flashed across Weasley's face, but I ignored it, glanced at Draco momentarily, and then began walking to my destination again.

This time, it was Weasley who caught up with me. I didn't stop for her, until she put a warm, small hand in the crook of my arm. "Pansy," She began, I cut her off.

"Please stop saying my name." I said, finally looking at her. I hadn't noticed we were the same height until now. At least I didn't have to look up at her to look into her annoyingly pretty brown eyes.

_I have brown eyes. Why can't mine be annoyingly pretty?_ I thought as Weasley looked at me with a small smile. "Would you prefer Parkinson?"

_I'd prefer you not call me anything at all, bint._ "Sure." I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Weasley had about the same body type as mine too. Huh.

My agreement made her smile. _Merlin, it should be illegal to do that._ "Good." She said, smiling again as Draco came to our sides.

I glared at the blonde, not yet able to forgive him for laughing at my expense. "Malfoy." I spat, taking a step back.

He raised a perfect blonde eyebrow and lifted the corners of his mouth into a smirk. "Hey."

My glare all but fell away as he said our normal greeting. But, it wasn't just us now. Weasley was looking at him expectantly. I still wanted to hit her.

Malfoy followed my look and ended up with his eyes trained on Weasley's face as she looked at her determinately. "Draco," She began, cutting her eyes to me shortly before looking back into his steely gaze.

Both of Draco's eyebrows went up as he got her meaning.

I stared at the two of them as they communicated, seemingly, without words. The dull ache made it's appearance as I clutched the middle of my chest with my left hand absently.

Draco turned to me finally, not with his trademark smirk, but a smile that was completely forced. "Pansy, I'm…" he paused, seeming to struggle.

Weasley rolled her eyes at his expense and nudged him hard with an elbow to the ribs. He winced; forcing his eyes shut, and then opened them again, relaxing his body. The look he gave me could have made anyone fall in love.

He was beautiful.

"Pansy." He said, looking me in the eyes.

I stared back, melting into his silver gaze. Draco's eyes were the best part about him, in my opinion. They were the only part that actually showed emotion. It was these molten metal eyes that I fell in love with while at Hogwarts.

He wasn't the most tolerable when we were younger, but one look at his eyes, and I'd melt. Like ice under a heat lamp. He knew he had me with his looks. It was inevitable.

He cleared his throat, throwing me out of my loss of coherent thought, and glanced at Ginny briefly. When he returned his eyes to me they were swirling, melted masses of silver. "Pansy, I'm sorry."

Wait…what?

Did Draco _Malfoy_ just…_apologize_? I shook my head, wondering if I was dreaming one of my vivid dreams again. Dropping my left hand from it's constant clutching, I raised my right hand to check the heat of my forehead, making sure I wasn't in the middle of a fever. They have been known to cause delusions.

After checking all of my vitals, making sure my heart was still beating, I stared at him. Bewildered would have been an understatement.

There was no possible way, in all of merlin's realm that _Ginny Weasley_ of all witches, could make Draco feel enough remorse to actually apologize. No bleeding way.

I must have had quite the expression on my face, because Draco was pushed aside again so that Weasley could start her light touches and brown eyed-examinations. I stopped breathing for a bit.

What was it about the youngest Weasley that had changed Draco so significantly?

_He loves her_.

This thought was like a bucket of water on the head. I looked up, first at Draco, and then to Weasley. I felt drenched from head to toe, but I was completely dry. This didn't make sense. I must have mused this out loud, because Weasley formed a small 'v' between her barely there ginger eyebrows, as she looked me over.

"Parkinson?" Weasley said quietly. She was concerned. "You're completely dry, dear. Are you ok? Should we take you home?"

Finally, I snapped out of my daze, and shook my head. "No, no. I'm fine." I murmured, looking at Draco. He looked the same.

Except for the laughing he was engaged in currently. "Draco. Stop laughing now." Weasley said through gritted teeth.

And he did. He instantly froze. I had found a new respect for this Weasley. She knew how to control the smarmy git I called my friend. I smirked at his shocked expression. "Pansy, I think you should eat something. Can we take you to lunch?" Weasley said, looking me over with her brown eyes again.

I hated my brown eyes when she looked at me. Mine weren't like hers at all. I might as well have dug them out and thrown them in the rubbish bin. They couldn't begin to compare to hers. At that thought, I found myself shaking my head. "No, I'm fine." I heard myself say.

Weasley looked from me to Draco and back. "Pansy, we're taking you to lunch." Draco said. He wasn't asking like Weasley had.

I frowned at him, and shook my head. Panic was beginning to spread it's sharp fingers down my arms. "I have errands to run. Things to buy." I said, waving my arms around in emphasis.

This didn't stop Weasley from taking my arm in hers and dragging me towards the Leaky Cauldron. I struggled against her, but she was surprisingly strong for her small build. This annoyed me further. I couldn't stop losing in the comparisons with her.

When we entered the pub, Weasley dragged me to an empty table that seated four in a well-lit corner of the small building. She gave Draco a look, and with a smirk my way, he went to order food for us.

An awkward silence passed between us as we both watched Draco walk away. I couldn't bring myself to look at her; afraid she'd be giving me another brown eyed-Weasley look.

I took the time to observe our surroundings. Not many witches or wizards were at the pub, weirdly. It was normally bustling with people, being the entrance to Diagon Alley from muggle London.

I looked for Tom, the friendly owner, but couldn't seem to find him. He always gave me an extra butter beer whenever I came. Tom had always had a liking for me.

The silence at our table was so resolute; I flinched when, finally, Weasley decided to begin a conversation. "I know how this must feel for you." She said.

I turned to her, about to make sure she definitely did not know how I felt, but paused when I saw her expression. Her large brown eyes were even larger than normal. Her creamy skin was slightly pale as she took in my expression.

She looked like an owl. A beautiful owl. On fire. I rolled my eyes at her beauty. It was beginning to annoy me. "I'm not sure what you're on about, Weasley." I said, raising an indignant eyebrow to make my point.

She laughed a small, barely there laugh, putting her head in her hands and sighing. "_Merlin_," she exclaimed, looking up at me. "You and Draco really grew up together, didn't you?" She asked, amused, and curious.

I scrunched my eyebrows together, confused at her meaning. "We did." I said, attempting to decipher her mood. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

She smiled again, a sad tinge to her expression. "Draco gets these far off looks sometimes. Like he's thinking deeply." She said, looking down at her hands on the table. "I ask him what's wrong and he raises that one eyes brow, just like you did, and says _I'm not sure what you're on about_." She said in a surprisingly good, pompous Draco voice.

I nodded absently, trying to picture Draco thinking deeply in her presence. "Well, I'm sure you know him better than I do, Weasley." I said, a pang of jealousy to my tone.

"Ginny."

"What?" I asked, confused.

She smiled, the warmth not reaching her eyes. "Please, call me Ginny. We're not in school anymore, surnames are ridiculous, Pansy." She said, shaking her head. Her red hair fell across her shoulders in a waterfall of fire. I grimaced at her beauty. How could anyone stand to be around her?

"Oh." Was all I could manage out of the hate I had for her. It was nearly blinding.

"Pansy," she began, but then sighed, shook her head and started again. "I know about you and Draco." She said, looking me in the eye.

It was my turn to look like an owl as I stared at the red-haired witch across from me. The shock dissolved into anger as I pictured Draco telling her stories of my undoubtful love for him. They must have thought it so funny.

"Do you?" I growled.

She swallowed, nodding. "Not everything. There are details he leaves out, but I have the basic outline. The rest I can pretty much fill in."

I felt my hands shaking under the table. I gripped the old, hard wood to stop them. "That's none of your bloody business, _Ginny_." I spat.

She winced from my tone, shrinking to half her size, but then shook it off and sat up straight. "It isn't." She stated, looking me in the eye with challenge.

At that, I shrunk down. Deflated. This girl made no sense. What was her goal? What was her plan? "Then why bring it up?" I asked.

She looked at me a bit longer, thinking, and then shook her head, looking at her hands again. "Because, as much as he tries to deny it, Draco loves you too."

It was the last thing I had imagined her to say. That one sentence played over and over in my head. The reverberation was unstoppable. "No." was all I could manage after a while.

She nodded, her eyes still on her hands. "He misses you, too." She said, shaking her head at something only she could remember. Her chocolate eyes landed on Draco, finally placing our order at the bar. "That night he told you," she paused, narrowing her eyes in thought, or memory, I couldn't tell. "You remember that, I imagine."

I nodded, gripping the table tighter. She nodded also, and returned her eyes to mine. "He didn't speak to me for a week after that." She said quietly.

My eyebrows were at my hairline. "He just stopped contacting me. I had to burst past the house elves in the Malfoy manor to speak to him. And when I found him," she paused, and paled. "I realized then that he needs you, Pansy."

I couldn't take anymore of her brown stare, so I watched as my hand turned purple from the death grip I had on the table. "He blames me, I think." She continued. "For you hating him."

I couldn't take this conversation anymore. The leaky cauldron had become suffocating. "If I had known, even a little bit, that you loved him." This caused me to look at her now. "I wouldn't have said yes to a date. I would have run for the hills." She smiled, a sad smile on her beautiful face.

My head was in my hands then. I couldn't cry in front of her. I _wouldn't _cry. This was unfair. It was the only way I could describe it.

Ginny Weasley was so un-hateable. She wasn't evil, or conniving. She wasn't plotting against me, either. She knew I loved Draco. And, she was sorry.

My hands were wet, but I didn't make a move to wipe the tears that splashed on the table. Ginny didn't say anything further; just let me cry without commentary. For that, I respected her. We sat that way for a while. My tears dried, but I made no move to lift my head, and she made no attempt to speak to me.

We were finally at an understanding. We both loved Draco Malfoy desperately. We were also both aware of the fact that polygamy in the wizarding world was illegal. We both knew he could only have one.

I knew he only wanted her.

The pain in my chest was astronomical. I wondered idly if Weasley had a charm, or a potion at St. Mungos that could take the pain away.

If she could mend the gaping, festering hole my chest had formed. I knew she didn't, but the thought helped the pain push to the back of my mind.

"Lift your head, I'll cast a face clearing charm on you, laugh like I'm the funniest person you've ever met. Draco's coming." She said, a hushed whisper.

I looked at her, sniffling. She whispered a silent face clearing charm on me. Tears gone, and red puffy eyes a memory, I began to laugh. My laugh was that of a crazed Azkaban prisoner.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Draco arrived, floating a tray with three bowls of steaming soup, three plates, and a basket of fresh looking bread in front of him. As we both looked up at him, he smiled, placing the tray in front of us. "My two girls." He said with a triumphant smile.

My laugh abruptly choked me as I shared a look with Weasley, who looked as torn as I felt. She slipped a small smile on for Draco and took a bowl. "This looks good, Draco. What is it?"

Draco looked at me as he said "Tom's special potato and herbs cream soup. It's Pansy's favorite."

I couldn't look at the blonde, I only looked at the bowl I had grabbed and began dipping the hot bread in it and stuffing my face. He was right. Tom's potato and herbs cream soup was my favorite meal. I used to come here with Draco nearly every weekend just to get it.

Draco frowned at my lack of a reaction to his meal choice and then looked at Ginny. "What were you guys talking about? Pansy was laughing like Mad-eye Moody." He said with a smirk my way.

I chose to ignore it as Ginny said "girl talk." nonchalantly. I had been completely wrong about this girl. She would have made an incredible Slytherin.

Draco nodded; not wanting to delve into what he probably thought was light talk about attractive quidditch players and shoes. "Is it good, Pansy?"

I stopped my devouring of the bread and looked at Ginny, nodding. Draco seemed confused as his brow furrowed and he looked back and forth between Ginny and I. "Is all well?" He asked cautiously.

Ginny turned on a mega-watt smile as she looked at her boyfriend. "Of course! Pansy and I were just talking about the shoes I'm wearing to…" at that point, Weasley began a long winded tangent about something Draco didn't care about. He listened anyway, feigning interest.

I stopped my assault of the delicious soup in my bowl and calmly put down the bread. I took the moment to access what Ginny had told me.

She had started the conversation by saying that Draco had told her things about he and I. My mind reeled with the possibilities of what she knew. I would have to ask her later.

Did she know about Paris? About his house-warming 'gift' when I moved into my flat in muggle London? Did she know about my congratulations 'gift' when he made it into the auror league for the ministry? Or were those details he had left out?

The dull ache flamed as I remembered the parts of our relationship that Draco would never openly admit to. It was torture to know that Ginny Weasley knew even a little bit about the two of us. Draco and I had spent almost half of our lives together. That had to mean something, right?

I remembered Weasley's expression as she said, "_he loves you too_". But, that was impossible. Draco had only ever been with me because I was convenient. When he did say, "I love you", it had only been after shagging senselessly. Didn't all men say that? His love was platonic. I was a sister, to him. A sister he shagged on occasion.

The dull ache came to the forefront of my awareness as I thought about how he had said he loved Weasley that night. The night I realized he didn't want me. He wanted her. If he loved Weasley, why would she ever think to say that he loved me 'too'?

I was interrupted from my revere when Draco was laughing at something, looking at my expectantly. I looked to Weasley, who asked, "Right, Pansy?"

I started in confusion, not sure what to say. "Erm, yeah." I said, looking at Ginny, confused.

She smiled. "See? She would be perfect for Harry." Ginny said, looking off dreamily.

Draco's expression was serious when he said, "No. Never." He looked at me, begging me to agree.

Realization crashed on my head I realized Ginny was telling Draco that Potter and I would be a good couple. "Over my dead body." I said flatly, looking at Ginny.

She smiled. "We'll see."

Draco shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Pansy doesn't like brunettes."

I glared at Draco, knowing what he was hinting at. He gave me a shrug of his shoulders. "Anyway, can we please stop talking about Potter?" He spat. Draco had yet to grow a liking to the boy who lived. I wondered idly what he would say to the news that Potter would be teaching at Hogwarts with me in a few weeks.

"He's going to be the Defense against the dark arts professor." I said quietly.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily at me. "_What_?" He ran a hand through his hair again as he huffed angrily.

"I saw him at the teashop I go to, and he said he's the new D. A. D. A. professor." I shrugged, attempting nonchalance.

Ginny smiled widely, clapping her hands like a five year old at Honey dukes. "_No_ way!" She nearly shrieked. "This is _too _good."

I grimaced at her excitement, and glanced at Draco who was looking above my head with an expression of utter anger. His face was turning red. "Quit." He said, lowering his eyes to mine.

My eyebrows were at my hairline again as I realized what he was implying. "Excuse me?" I said venomously. "Like it's your choice on what I do, or who I work with." I said, crossing my arms over my chest immaturely.

Draco huffed. "You are my business! I'm trying to protect you!" he said a little too loudly, causing a few surrounding tables to look out way.

Ginny was laughing her head off, obviously enjoying the anger Draco had for the scarred wizard. "Draco, come on. Pansy is 25 now. I think she is old enough to make her own decisions."

Draco didn't take his eyes off of me when he said, "Ginny, shut it. This is not funny. Potter and Pansy are _not_ going to work together."

I scoffed, shocked by his controlling nature suddenly. "No, Draco, you _shut it._" I spat at the blonde. "I am not quitting this job just because Harry _bleeding_ Potter will be working with me. I'm not a first year, and you are not my father, so please, do us both a favor, and you _shut it_." I was breathing heavily by the time I was able to look at him.

He flinched when I said 'father', but said nothing further, simply regarded me with narrowed eyes. Weasley at his side was chewing on her bread with pursed lips in an attempt to keep her laughter in.

After that, our conversation dwindled down as we finished eating. When all three of us were done, I stood to leave, but Draco wrapped his large hand around my wrist. "Don't even think about it. We'll escort you to the other shops. We need to talk."

Ginny sighed and put a hand on his shoulder to reprimand him, but was silenced when Draco gave her an icy glare. "Come on."

Both Weasley and I obliged the blonde through his anger and followed him back into Diagon Alley.

* * *

After achieving all of my errands, Draco dragged us back to the Leaky Cauldron to floo to our respective homes. First, he let Ginny go, with a kiss on her forehead and a quiet conversation I tuned out. The red-haired witch gave a wave my way, and she was gone.

Draco turned on me, then, with a dangerous look in his eye. I took a step back, afraid of the look he was giving me. He stayed by the fireplace as he looked at me, then smirked and dropped his eyes to the floor beneath him.

"You and Ginny spoke." He stated. It wasn't a question.

I nodded, not able to speak. He looked at me again, his eyes less fiery this time. "I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but, Pansy, you have to understand how I feel about you working with Potter."

I nodded again, shocked by the sudden upbringing of the subject of Potter. "That's not going to stop me, you know."

He laughed, and nodded, looking at the floor again. "Yeah, I know."

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes, both of us not sure what to say. I broke the silence with a thought that had been running through my mind all day. "I like her, Draco." I said. "I don't _love _her, but I like her."

He tilted his head my way with a small smile on his perfect face. "Really?"

I nodded, crossing my arms. "I wish I could hate her, merlin, it'd be easier if I hated her." I admitted, shaking my head. "But, I just…_can't_."

His face broke out into a huge grin as he considered what I had said. He looked so _happy_ that I liked her. His shoulders, and entire posture relaxed, as if it had been my opinion of her that had made him tense.

"I knew you would." He said, his smile turning into a smug grin.

I rolled my eyes at his incurable smugness. "Yes, well, don't expect us to be chummy girlfriends, or anything. I'm not going to go shopping with her anytime soon." He laughed at that and nodded. "I'm just saying she's…_tolerable._" I finished avoiding his smug look by glancing off to the side, searching for Tom again.

"I have to go, Pansy." Draco said, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't contain his happiness now. "Until later?"

I nodded and accepted his kiss on the cheek. "Later." I promised back, and waved as he left in a bit of green flames.

* * *

I breathed in deeply as I entered from the portal to platform nine and three quarters. A strange sense of dejá vu wiped over me as I took in the large scarlet Hogwarts express. It hadn't changed in the slightest.

I tried not to remember the last time I had said goodbye to my father on this platform as I made my way to the entrance of the train that I knew was the professor's compartment. While trying to dodge children as I made my way to the doors, I slid them open, and was practically pushed in by the parent traffic.

I scowled, dusted myself off and looked around the professor's compartment. It was larger than the regular student compartments I sat in the seven years I used this train. The soft, velvet cushions that sat on each side of the student compartments, ran along all four sides of the large room, stopping momentarily for the sliding doors that led to the rest of the train.

The professor compartment slightly reminded me of the meeting room the head boy and head girl had used to rally the prefects in for a beginning of the term meeting fifth year, but it was about double the size. It was rather impressive, and the benches were even more cozier than I had remembered from my student years.

I sat, being the first professor to arrive, and set Owl down beside me. I took the time to remember the going away party Draco, Ginny, and Blaise had thrown for me only two nights ago. There had been lots and lots of fire whiskey.

Blaise would be returning to Hogwarts as the Care of magical creatures professor. A job he had had since he was 20. Unknown to both Draco and I, Blaise had been Hagrid's best student. Before the great oaf died, he had told McGonagall that our friend Blaise Zabini was the only qualified person to replace him in his absence. So, at the young age of 20, Blaise became one of the youngest professors to ever work at Hogwarts. I had a sneaking suspicion that my professor-ship had been somewhat influenced by Professor Zabini himself. He was always telling me how the old headmaster had had a soft spot for him, but then again, most women had many _spots_ for the handsome, dark skinned Italian man. He was beautiful.

I sighed at the beauty of my friends, ever present in my mind, and took out the novels Darley had given me before I left. My eyes landed on _The catcher in the rye_, _Ethan Frome_, and _Gone with the wind_. I smiled as I ran a finger across the spines of each of the old books that were in my bag.

As I opened _Gone with the wind_, the compartment door opened, and Blaise waltzed in. He took one look at my novels and smirked. "Pansy." He said in greeting.

I smirked in response, remembering how Blaise was the one that opted to have late night study sessions with me during our school years in the library. He was the one that initially got me onto reading the 'classic' muggle novels. He was also the one who gave me my first copy of _Wuthering heights_. "Blaise." I said, watching as he took a seat across from me, setting his midnight black owl's cage down beside him.

We spoke of little, due to the fact that nothing exciting had happened in the two days we hadn't seen each other. He commented on the books in my lap shortly, but we both knew the other only had the intention of reading on this train ride.

Blaise was a man of few words, which is why it had surprised me so much when he had accepted the professor position at Hogwarts. I had always known he was an excellent student, his scores neared those of Granger, but he had never been one to come off as willing to teach. If anything, he wanted to be left alone to his books. Blaise hated most people.

We sat quietly for a while; apparently we had arrived early. A few more professors came in, all of us seemed to be the younger professors at Hogwarts, however, Blaise and I were still the youngest of them all.

I heard the compartment door open after the compartment was becoming quite full, and looked up. Potter swaggered in, a sloppy grin on his face when his eyes landed on me and the empty seat next to me. I hurriedly put my bag in it's place, forcing him to sit next to Blaise, who, after giving me his best Professor Zabini look, scooted over closer to the window to give Potter room to sit.

Once seated, Potter looked at me, and then began a conversation with Blaise. I didn't look up from my novel as the train began to screech into motion. I had the ability to tune people out while I read, Draco liked to call it selective hearing, but I liked to think of it as my in depth focus on the words I was reading. I didn't notice I was tuning anyone out until a piece of balled up paper was tossed onto the page I was reading.

I snapped my head up to glare at my assailant, but no one was looking at me. I looked at Blaise; he was looking out the window, trying to hide a smile. Next to him, Potter was pretending to sleep on top of a burly man's shoulder. "Potter." I snapped quietly.

Nearly the entire room of professors turned their heads to look at me. Apparently the train ride wasn't normally so exciting. Potter pretended to wake up slowly, and then threw a crooked grin my way. "_Pansy_." He drawled, causing Blaise to finally burst out with a laugh.

I threw the paper ball at his head, but underestimated his seeker reflexes as he caught it before it hit his forehead. "Play nice." He said, _tsk_ing at me as if I was a child.

I held back the urge to stick my tongue out at him, and looked back down to my novel. From my peripheral, I could see Blaise shake Potter's hand. "This year is going to be fun, mate." My friend said to the wizard sitting next to him with a chuckle.

I groaned and drew my knees up to shield myself from any on-coming paper balls. The rest of the train ride was silent, save for the occasional chuckles shared between Blaise and Potter.

_This is going to be a long term._

* * *

_Author's note(2.0): _Thank you SO much **DesiredRomance **you are so sweet! And, maybe. I haven't decided yet...what do you think? -Much love!

Please read and review! It gives me confidence! 3


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer** - I do not, in any way, shape or form, own any of these characters, settings or themes. They all belong to the wonder that is J.K. Rowling!

_Author's note: I'm sure you want to murder me for taking so long! However, due to my long leave of absence, I was able to give you the longest chapter yet. And, in response to the current reviews: You shall find out the pairing eventually! Stick around and read to find out. :) I've made a decision, but I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that Pansy hasn't. :) By the way, Blaise Zabini is my new best friend. I just kind of love him. _

_That's all. _

Enjoy!

* * *

"You're scowling." Blaise murmured from beside me as we sat at the end of the long, horizontal professor table at the beginning of the term feast. The great hall was alight with incredible mirth. That didn't stop me from hating existence.

I made sure to stab a piece of a carrot with my fork before answering. Poor carrot. It never had a chance. "I'm not pleased with my current situation."

I heard Blaise sigh and drop the topic. He was never one for conflict. I loved that about him. We stayed silent as I shoved various pieces of vegetables into my mouth one by one. I couldn't help but glare at the students chatting about the hall. I missed being an age in which responsibility was merely a far off concept. Being an adult, having to face your problems, that's what is truly horrible about growing up. When you're younger, you can at least avoid whatever you don't want to sort out at the moment.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, dropping my fork in a final attempt to simultaneously drop the horrid mood I had been in since, well, Draco. I flinched inwardly thinking about the man that I, grudgingly, still loved. It wasn't easy to give that up, it consumed me entirely. "I'm not fun company to keep as of lately."

My friend sighed again and put his own silverware down in a calm manner. "It's not entirely your fault, now is it?"

His tone was calm, but I could sense the under lying hint of aimed anger. He knew our blonde friend was off the deep end. I shook my head of thoughts of red hair, smiling brown eyes and beautiful witches. It wasn't fair to give Ginny Weasley a bad name simply because I couldn't get over the fact that the man I fancied didn't return the favor. "It is, though." I murmured, taking a sip from my goblet of spiced wine and eying the Slytherin table.

From my peripheral, I saw Blaise grimace uncomfortably. I didn't want to burden my friend with my incredible pile of problems. It didn't sit right with me to continue making him comfort me on a topic we were both otherwise entirely uncomfortable discussing, so we dropped it, and ventured off into small talk about the prospective Slytherin students and the oncoming year of classes. It was a nice distraction. Draco simply slipped from my mind as I eyed my future students, trying to look regal and important in case one decided to chance a glance at their new Charms professor.

"At least you look gorgeous." I could hear a smile in my Italian friends voice as he noticed I had straightened my spine under the possible scrutiny of my pupils. I smiled at him, appreciating the fact that it was him here, and not Draco. The image of being forced to not-so-secretly pine after the blonde wizard while also attempting to juggle the position as Charms professor seemed tiring. At least while being away from any possible place Draco could turn up I had the ability to focus on important things. Such as lesson plans, and myself. For once.

"I wasn't exactly sure what Charms professors wore these days." I smirked, glancing down at my deep purple velvet floor length dress and the emerald cloak I had decided to throw over it. In an attempt to capture the image of the many female professors I had during my time at Hogwarts, I opted for regal, but fashionable. Young, but professional. My wardrobe, I had decided, would be immaculate. From the point of my Victorian racing boots, to the tip of my tilted, yet fashionable, witches hat.

Blaise smirked as he took in my attire and nodded approvingly. "You look smashing, love."

I would have said something along the lines of _I know_, but in an attempt to harbor my pride, I fit a smile on and nodded, all the while approving of Blaise's dashing all black robes. He simply was a beautiful, dark man.

Our conversation aided me in lightening my mood. It didn't, however, take away the pang of knowledge that somewhere along the professor's table sat Potter. I silently begged and pleaded to Salazar that golden boy Potter would find it in his annoyingly Gryffindor heart to leave me alone. It was enough to feel completely trampled by the situation with Draco, but it was an entirely new problem to be constantly badgered and purposely annoyed by a grown man, who seemed to favor the characteristics of a teenage boy. The term hadn't even began, and yet I had already had my fill of him. He had pushed his way onto my nerves, and it was unclear when he would cause my control to topple over. I didn't fancy hexing him and losing my newly found job. I liked working.

At the new mental topic of Potter, my scowl returned. I couldn't help it. It was an entirely natural reflex for me now, almost alongside breathing, or blinking. I couldn't help but greatly dislike the fact that he had wormed his way back into Hogwarts. He probably didn't even have the OWLS or NEWTS marks to be a professor. I assumed that being the 'savior of the wizarding world' put you in pretty high places with the ministry and the headmistress. As if it no longer mattered about qualifications. If I rode a horse one day, could I be the new care of magical creatures professor?

I shook my head in an attempt to get rid of the spiteful thoughts of Potter. I needed to learn to control my dislike of him. For the job, the students and my sanity, I would make an attempt to ignore his incredible stupidity. It would be hard, but a challenge was always in my interest.

I smirked to myself, thinking of Potter accidentally taking a bludger to the head from the professor stands on the quidditch pitch. The image alone was enough to get me through the rest of the meal.

* * *

After the end of the feast, the students piled out, heading to their prospective common rooms led by their houses prefects. Headmistress McGonagall stood from behind her podium and turned to us once the food had been cleared from the house tables and the students had left. "Good evening, friends," she began, fixing each of us with a stern look. I shivered at the memories of receiving that exact look as a student years ago. This woman simply never changed. "I have a few announcements before you are able to head to your rooms, it wont take long." She assured.

I stifled a yawn as she continued. "As you may or may not be aware of, the professor dormitories are organized and distributed in a very simple, alphabetical fashion, in order to ensure the simple, and quick settlement into your new rooms. If you look in front of you, I have provided directions, a password and your suite mate on a card." McGonagall stated, gesturing to the table in front of each of the members of the staff now. I avoided looking down at my assignment as cold, sharp realization stabbed me.

"Although many of you are returning professors this term, there are few new comers to Hogwarts this year, as you may have noticed. Please do not be alarmed, friends, your senior professors are here to help assure you a smooth, and simple transition back into Hogwarts life." The headmistress said with a stiff, small smile on her stern set mouth. Her voice began to fade from my attention as my hands clung to the arms of my chair, staring ahead. This was entirely impossible. There was no way my life could hit rock bottom in such a short span of time.

The possibly important information McGonagall was most likely giving us was completely tuned out as I held the urge to stand up and quit. The test on my patience was weighing down on me. How was it possible to hold all of these things and not fall flat on my face? How was I supposed to live in this castle and not throw myself off the astronomy tower?

I took deep, labored breaths in through my nose as I made an attempt to calm myself down. Smoothing my shaking hands over my legs and velvet dress, I dipped my head, making sure to breath, blink and exhale like a normal person. It was a trying job to keep up the routine. There was just no way. No possible chance this was reality. My life couldn't have been this bad, right?

I finally picked up my card, knowing what it would say, but looked at it all the same. Sure enough, in an elegant, slanted script, it read _Parkinson & Potter- Dungeons. Password: Patefacio_

I felt a cool, soft hand on my arm that broke me out of my catatonic state. Blaise looked at me with skilled masked concern. His eyes prodded my expression as if to say _what's wrong with you now?_ I fixed a glare at him, my body filling to the brim with anger for him. He had known there was a possibility that Potter and I would share quarters. I silently seethed when he looked away, gulping nervously. Was this a game to him? Did he relish in the fact that things kept piling on top of each other, all begging to push me further into the hole I had dug for myself?

I let my attention draw back to McGonagall just as she was closing up her speech. "With that in mind, off to your rooms you go." She said in a stern voice with a somewhat amused expression. Well, as amused as Minevra McGonagall could achieve.

I stood, straightening my dress and cloak, and ignored Blaise's attempt to grab my attention. I walked around the table, pushing in my chair with a wave of my hand, and began my walk out of the Great hall. My lone storm off was interrupted by a chuckle behind me. I immediately stopped walking, causing my follower to walk rather hardly into my back. I turned to glare at Potter, ready to give him a hex when I took in his appearance and couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably.

Potter had fallen to the ground in a huff, his glasses were all the way down his nose and his clothing was rumpled. "Hey!" He said, getting up and dusting himself off.

I smirked at the wizard, amused, but then, remembering our predicament, my face fell. "Just because we'll be sharing a bathroom does not mean you can follow me like a puppy, Potter."

It was his turn to laugh uncontrollably. He doubled over at my words, causing me to scowl at him. "Please, Parkinson," he gasped, holding his stomach and wiping mock tears. "You are far too self involved."

My wand was in my hand in an instant as I fixed it below his chin, ready to hex his arse back on the ground. Potter's laugh died off as he made a frightened glance at my expression. I looked at him, and twisted my wand under his chin. "I don't care if you're the boy who lived, or bloody Salazar Slytherin himself," I spat, fixing him with a dead panned look. "We're not friends, or colleagues even. You don't speak to me, and you _definitely_ do not look at me." I finished, pushing him back and walking the way of the dungeons.

As I took to the stairs in my descent to my shared compartment with Potter, I smirked at our encounter, pleased with the scared expression he had on his face when my wand was beneath his chin. He was going to be incredibly fun to play with.

As I got to the brick wall lined with three flickering sconces, I muttered the password and watched as the bricks moved and spread to reveal a large, warm room. A fireplace was in the center, roaring with flames and warming the room instantly. The room was large and welcoming, fit with a large scarlet red couch in the middle of two comfortable chocolate brown armchairs. The walls surrounding the living set were lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with various large volumes, and a small wooden table sat underneath a window that glowed with green light. We were, after all, underground. Or, as the Snape had once told us, under_water_.

Off to the sides, to the left, were two dark mahogany doors that I assumed held one room and a bathroom. I opted to choose this door; I would need the access to the loo if I wanted to beat Potter to it in the morning. After a twist of the cold, black iron door handle, a small room with a large, four poster bed lay in the middle, surrounded by a small black desk off to the side and a large, inviting closet. Owl sat in her cage by another window glowing with the ominous green light, she chirped in her way of greeting when she saw me. I was momentarily distracted from my surroundings when the bed hangings turned from a deep scarlet to an eggplant purple, the bed spread changing along with it. My eyebrows raised in surprise, and I reminded myself to ask Blaise why it was purple, and not Green and silver like the Slytherin dormitories had been.

After looking around, I grabbed my trunk from a pocket in my cloak and lifted the shrink charm off of it, levitating it to be at the end of the bed. I smiled at the room I was in. Being a professor definitely paid off. This room was a million times better than my dorm back in Slytherin.

With a loud chirp, Owl reminded me that she was stuck in her cage by the window. I decided it would be a good time to run her up to the Owlery. On my way out of the compartment, however, Potter decided to show up, seeming surprised to see me settled in before him.

We stared at each other for a moment, neither of us speaking. His usual messy black hair was wildly untamed, and his green eyes were dark behind his glasses as I took him in. Unlike Blaise, a few other professors and I, Potter had opted for a more muggle approach to his attire. He wore brown, fitted slacks, with a pair of brown dress shoes just a shade darker, and a tan professor blazer with elbow patches just under his biceps. Under the blazer, he had an off white button down shirt and a deep, red tie to finish it off. It wasn't the most stylish approach to an outfit, but somehow, Potter seemed in his element.

Now that my fit of anger was completely gone, I regretted my earlier behavior towards the dark haired wizard. It was extremely unprofessional of me to not only treat him poorly, but threaten him with my wand.

I sighed, knowing I would have to apologize if I ever wished to lessen my miserable moods this term. "Listen, Potter," I began, but he had different plans as he pushed past me to the room on the right of the living area without so much as a word my way.

I would have followed after him, stubbornly forcing out an apology, but decided against it. I would fix my Potter problem later.

It was a quiet, long walk to the owlery. I made sure to skip the vanishing steps when they came into my way, and run fast enough up the stairs so that they wouldn't change my direction. Walking down the Hogwarts corridors once again, it felt as though I had never left.

I made sure to wave to the few portraits I could remember on the walls, and climbed the stairs to the Owlery silently. The only sound around me was the whistling of the wind, the laps of small waves from the great lake, and the click of my Victorian boots as they collided with the stone steps.

A few dozen owls of all kinds welcomed me as I entered the small room filled with birds. I made sure to side step any of their droppings on the floor as I found a perch to let Owl onto. She was looking around with her wide eyes, excited to be in company with so many of her kind.

I smiled, giving her head a pat. "You know, I'm going to have to name you eventually," I told her, digging up a few owl treats from a pocket in my cloak and looking around at the other owls. "You can't be 'Owl' forever." She gave me another chirp as I ran a finger along the soft feathers of her neck.

I looked around, the black night sky outside the cuttings of stone and glass-less windows was filled with stars, and wondered how to be civil with Potter once I got back to the compartment we shared. We would never be friends, that much I knew. But, for the sake of my sanity, I needed to at least be able to speak to him without either one of us pulling out our wands. I wondered which approach I should take with him, and whether or not he would be willing to be civil back.

Potter and I weren't exactly enemies, if I remembered correctly. Our first six years at Hogwarts, we barely interacted at all. It was the seventh, and more potent year that I would have to worry about my actions towards him affecting any type of truce. He most likely still harbored ill feelings towards me after I had tried to turn him in during the war. Hell, _I_ still harbored ill feelings for myself.

If there was any chance for any type of truce at all, I would need a well planned out speech, possibly some tears here and there, and a good reason to become civil with him. He would need a reason to trust me. I stilled at that thought, unsure of how to proceed.

This type of situation was easier said than acted upon. Potter, especially after my angry outburst in front of the Great hall, would need evidence of my remorse. He would need concrete proof. I scowled, thinking of the situation ahead. He was nearly a brick wall that I had to find the correct hammer to hit with. At that thought, I had to physically put in effort to halt the thoughts of hitting Potter with a hammer, they were too tempting. Shaking my head clear of hammers and fatally injuring former Gryffindors, I left Owl with her cage and took to the stairs from the Owlery tower.

A few minutes later, I whispered the password to the living area I shared with Potter and stepped through the opening. The fire was still roaring and Potter was sitting in the armchair to the left of the couch, reading a book. He looked up once I came through the entrance, giving a curt nod my way, and reverting his gaze back down to the text in his hands. I relished in the silence for a few minutes and stood awkwardly by the brick wall that had closed behind me. Whatever I needed to say to Potter, I would have to begin the conversation myself.

I nodded once, mustering up as much courage as a Slytherin could, and spoke. "Potter, can I talk to you?"

He didn't look up from his book, but I could see that his eyes were no longer scanning left to right. "If you'd like." He said in a tone that might as well have told me to _sod off_.

I took a deep breath and sat at the end of the couch farthest away from Potter's chair, looking at him, watching him stare at the words on the page, not reading. "I wanted to…apologize." I winced at the word. This was incredibly difficult to choke out. My pride was far too present.

"Go ahead." Potter still didn't look up from his book.

I sighed, and looked away, noticing for the first time, the portrait of the Hogwarts founders above the fireplace. They weren't moving. I took time to think through my next words, hoping there was no underlying regret peeking through my apology. "I'm sorry, Potter."

Finally looking up from his book, he fixed me with a stiff, dark green look. "About?" He prodded.

My eyes shot to his as I looked at him in surprise. What was I sorry about? _Being forced to work with you, for one. _I sneered to myself. _Having to see you again after years of perfect, amiable absence, that's two. I'm sorry I have to room with you against my will. _I couldn't help my bitter, acidic thoughts as they clouded my mind. I also couldn't help but look on at Potter, helpless. He gave me no indication that he was speaking anytime soon, so I spoke up.

"For threatening you," I said. "And for being…mean."

I could feel the angry flush of my skin as I finally was released from Potter's emerald eyes. He looked on at the fire, shutting his book with a twitch of his mouth. He was fighting a smile, and I could tell. My previous scowl returned. As did the thoughts of hammers.

"'S ok, Parkinson. You're right, we're not friends." He said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head and walking past me.

I glared at his back, daring him to laugh at me. He took the dare. "No need to feel bad, though. You didn't hurt my feelings." And with a sideways grin my way, he shut his bedroom door behind him.

I could have screamed all night about hating him with every fiber of my body. He had played the vulnerable card, and I had fallen for it.

With yet another scowl, I got up from the couch, and stomped off to my bedroom, opposite Potter's. I ripped my cloak off angrily and got dressed for bed, continuing the scowl until I had finally laid down. I willed away thoughts of the infuriating man that slept only a few meters away from me.

Thoughts of hexing him filled my dreams.

* * *

It was a week before the official first week of classes began, but that didn't keep me inside the dungeon compartment. I spent most of the free week taking walks along the Great lake, or moving things around in my official Charms classroom. Blaise was incredibly busy with obtaining the correct animals and creatures for his future lessons, so I only saw glances of him every other day or so. From our rare and very short conversations, he seemed to be completely in love with his job. I only prayed I would feel the same way.

Setting up my classroom helped me keep organized and busy. I had made it a goal to stay out of the common living area I shared with Potter as much as possible, even if that meant that my office hours ran until late into the night. It was an attempt to keep from seriously injuring the wizard, and keeping my sanity in tact.

The week I had been at Hogwarts was incredibly lonely. With no official friends, aside from Blaise, I spent most of my time alone, or in professor meetings with McGonagall and the fellow professors. I made it a point to sit next to Blaise at the end of the professor table at meals anytime I could, to avoid awkward introductions with the professors that had yet to attempt a friendship with me. Blaise claimed I was purposely avoiding making friends, but I would just wave him off, or change the subject. The truth was, I didn't know how to make friends without having familial connections prior to meeting them. And my secluding myself with Blaise wasn't helping the case.

So, one day, exactly two days before term began, I made it a goal to make at least one friend within the professor group. I sent Owl to a wizard friend of mine that worked in the ministry to gather background checks for the lot of wizards and witches I worked with. Owl came back with a small package containing files on each of the professors, including myself, down to their favorite color and OWLS and NEWTS marks. I would have to thank Theodore at some point for his help.

After a few hours of pouring over the files, I had decided my destined friend here at Hogwarts would be Melissa Taber, the Arithmancy professor of three years. She had taken over for Professor Vector after a family member had passed away. She had also graduated from Hogwarts my fifth year with straight O's from Ravenclaw. And, although we didn't have much in common, I could remember Blaise telling me she had incredible fashion sense. The woman could have been a muggle model.

After putting away the files in a safe place in my locked trunk, I decided to pay a visit to the Arithmancy room. I arrived just in time to catch her walking out of her classroom, shutting the door behind her. I paused, unsure of how to introduce myself without feeling incredibly creepy. I knew so much about her now, I'm sure she didn't even know my name.

I decided to introduce myself normally when she began to walk past me, giving me a kind smile and a nod of her head as she began to descend the stairs leading to the main corridors. I turned around towards her and began to walk behind her on the stairs. Everything about this seemed strange for me. When I was a student, I hadn't even needed to introduce myself to my fellow Slytherins. We had practically all grown up in the same social circle. This experience was a definite first. I decided to comment on the one thing I knew she would appreciate: her shoes.

"Merlin," I gasped, causing her to pause in her descent and turn to me with a questioning brow raised. I smiled quickly and lowered my eyes to her shows. "I'm sorry, but your shoes are, well, incredible."

When I looked back up at her, she was smiling. "Oh, thank you." Her voice was soft and she seemed rather nice from her expressions. I smiled inwardly at my achievement. She gave me a once over and stopped at the belt I had around my green, floor length dress. "That belt is to die for."

I smiled at her and held out my hand. "Pansy Parkinson. Slytherin. Charms professor."

She took my hand with a smile of her own. "Melissa Taber. Ravenclaw head of house. Arithmancy."

I nodded and we both continued down the stairs, speaking of fashions we both aspired to wear during the winter term. Melissa was nearly too much like me, I found. She was a tad taller, and not as stick thin as I had grown, but she was still thin. She had soft looking, straight brown hair that fell down her back, and lightly tanned skin. Her grey eyes were large and doe-like, making her look younger than her 27 years. She had a sarcastic personality that rivaled Daphne Greengrass, but she wasn't caustic by any means. She smiled often, and told me of her love for the castle, never wishing to leave.

I was glad I had found her, more like stalked her, once our conversation was done. She had invited me to sit next to her during dinner that night, and I willingly obliged, happy to have found at least one friend. It was nice to speak to another witch for once, not including the stern headmistress McGonagall. At dinner that night, Melissa waved me over to sit down between her and a young, handsome wizard she introduced as Anthony Boreman who had attended Hogwarts four years ahead of my class as a Hufflepuff and taught Muggle studies. I smiled politely at him, introducing myself as I had to Melissa earlier.

His smile made my cheeks flush. His hazel eyes and wavy brown hair stood out against his light, pale skin. He didn't even begin to compare to Draco or Blaise, but he was definitely more handsome than a normal bloke. We made polite conversation before the rest of the professors came to eat; Blaise stopped short of our normal seats with his hands in his pockets, and looked over at me quizzically. I smiled, gave a small wave and looked back to my new friends. It was great to talk to people that didn't know everything about me.

* * *

"We're to do rounds together tonight." Potter told me on the first night of the term, coming from his room and stopping short to speak to me.

I looked up from _Wuthering heights_, dog-eared the page and gave a small nod. The chair that I sat in across from the fire was incredibly comfortable, but I got up reluctantly and allowed him to usher me out of our living area and into the dungeons.

We walked quietly, side by side as we took to the stairs up from the dungeons. It was a cool night, fall was nearing, and the air was losing its summer heat. I couldn't help but shiver from the change in temperature from our common room. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me, and imagined the heat of the fire.

The halls were pitch black as we walked, forcing Potter and I to cast a silent _lumos_ charm to give us our sight through the corridors. Neither one of us spoke, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. We both seemed to have too much on our minds.

We walked for at least 20 minutes before Potter began to hum quietly. I gave him a sidelong glance, curious as to why he had decided to make sound, but he only looked straight ahead, unphased by his sudden humming. I shook my head and continued forward, until Potter began to pull something from his pocket.

I stopped, watching his movement as he pulled a large, wrinkled and folded piece of parchment out, muttering something that I couldn't hear. He lifted his lit wand to the paper, scanning his eyes across it, and lifted his face to mine with a grin. "All's clear."

I balked at him, confused. "What?" I asked intelligently.

He chuckled quietly, and pushed the parchment into my hands. "Look, no one up but professors."

The parchment he held out to me seemed to be some type of map of Hogwarts. It was a detailed view of the castle, marking corridors, stairways and common rooms. I looked up at him in shock; surprised him of all people would have such a thing.

"What is this?"

"Something I inherited a long time ago. Helped me a lot back in school." The mischievous glint to his bright green eyes was unavoidable.

I looked back down, watching as footsteps labeled _Minevra McGonagall_ paced in a room near the Gryffindor tower. It was a map of Hogwarts, which I was pretty sure were somewhat illegal and non-existent, showing people wandering about in the castle. This was incredible, not to mention surprising in the hands of Perfect Potter.

"How the mighty have fallen." I muttered, smirking up at the man across from me.

His lop-sided grin in response lit up his entire face. My eyes flickered over his features, curious as to who had given him this incredible invention. "It seems our job is done, Parkinson."

We walked back to our quarters, speaking silently about the map. He let me hold it, and watch the movements of various professors awake in the castle. I shook my head, amazed at the magic of Potter's belonging. He surprised me with this item; I never would have guessed it was his. Our conversation stopped shortly as we entered our common room and stood awkwardly near the sitting area.

Neither of us made a move to our separate rooms, but just stood, looking anywhere but at each other. After about ten minutes of incredibly awkward silence, I moved to the chair I had vacated earlier and picked up _Wuthering heights_ again. "Thank you," I said, causing him to look at me with surprise. "For, err, for cutting our rounds short tonight, I mean."

Potter nodded and sat down on the far end of the couch, away from me. "You really like to read." It wasn't a question.

I looked up, and nodded with a small smile. "Yep."

He nodded again and picked at a string on his trousers, not saying anything. "What's your favorite book?"

I looked up again, somewhat frustrated, but surprised by his questionnaire. "That's a hard question." I murmured, looking off in thought, tapping my fingers lightly on the cover of the Brontë novel.

He chuckled a bit at my response and shook his head. Cocking my head to the side in confusion, I looked at him. "Am I funny, Potter?" It may have come out a bit harsh.

He ignored my tone, but still didn't look at me. "You just remind me of someone, that's all."

I blanched, thinking through his list of friends, albeit longer than mine. "Don't say who I think you're going to." I said, quietly threatening the wizard.

He looked up at me, amused. "Hermione always says out of all the books she reads, she'd never be able to pick a favorite."

I winced, thinking myself the farthest from being 'like' Granger in anyway. Reading novels does not qualify me to be anything like her. So the bint reads, so do I, but that doesn't mean I'm a snarky know-it-all. Potter seemed to sense my thought pattern straying to Granger's bad qualities. He laughed awkwardly, and then came to her defense. "Hermione's a lot more…calm now. Much less…excited about…well, answering questions."

I laughed at his expanse, running a hand over the cover of my book again. "So you still are mates with Granger and Weasley?"

"Yeah, of course." Potter nodded.

I nodded absently, confused about where this conversation was going. This was by far the longest I had ever spoken with Harry Potter, let alone the most awkward choice of subject. We weren't insulting each other, and neither of us had ill intentions. It was nice to not be on the defense for once.

"What about you? Are you, erm, still friends with Malfoy?" I winced. Potter seemed to catch my hesitancy. "Sorry, maybe not."

I looked up, wanting to change the subject. "We still talk, sure." I said, attempting nonchalance painfully. Potter was the last person that needed to know how I pined after Draco. If I let that bit of information go, he would most likely run with it, and I'd regret every word.

After that we made small talk about classes, and our years at Hogwarts. I found that conversation with Potter was almost comfortable. The fact that he didn't know anything about me was a breath of fresh air. In school, we barely spoke to each other, but we were back again, and we were making polite conversation.

My mother would have a heart attack if she knew. It was common knowledge in our family to avoid any 'war-speak'. It was just too painful for my nearly comatose mother.

* * *

The first few weeks of term were incredibly easy. My students were attentive and intelligent, and it was amusing to see that house rivalries were still present, although not at the fervor which my generation had experienced.

My friendship with Melissa became easy and less awkward, I found we were very alike in choice of fashion and personality. She was fun to be around, always cracking jokes at McGonagall's stern expressions, and I found her to be a great friend.

Blaise's work load lessened as the term began, which allowed him time away from his creatures and more time to at least spend time with me after classes had ended for the day.

The biggest improvement had been with Potter and I. We weren't friends by any means, but we were civil towards each other. We tended to stay in the same room with a comfortable silence between us as I read, and he'd plan lessons for the weeks ahead, I found his presence was nearly bearable.

We got to know bits about each other from small amounts of conversation we'd have from time to time. During our rounds, we'd check his map of the castle before even leaving our common room. He wasn't talkative like Draco had been when we were younger, he listened when I spoke and made comments about the things I said. It was incredibly easy to be, well, friendly with him. I began to regret not being nicer to him in school. He was decent.

It was the third week of the term when I realized we were slowly becoming something close to friends. The thought was alarming and unwanted at the time. I had never imagined being anything with him. But, Potter wormed his way into my thoughts, he would show up after my last class of the day and walk me to our common room, talking about the spells that backfired on his students that day, or having to endure requests for his signature from the first years. He was funny in a way that I had never realized. He was comfortable.

"And I looked at her and said 'What do I look like? Some muggle movie star?'" Potter said as he walked at my side down the stairs to the dungeons.

I laughed, imagining the wide-eyed expression of the student that had asked him to sign an issue of the _Daily prophet_ that had an article about him. "You said that?" I asked incredulously. "That poor thing!"

He grinned at me sidelong. "No, I'm yanking your chain. But, I was very tempted to."

I shook my head, laughing again. "You're crazy, Potter."

"Harry."

I stopped walking, looking at him in confusion. "Sorry?"

He turned towards me, walking backwards down the corridor now. "Call me Harry, _Pansy_."

His grin was mischievous as he took in my shocked expression. Surnames were simply the default for the two of us. Or, really anyone I knew that hadn't been a real 'friend'. I only recently began to call my younger brother by his first name. I grimaced, wanting to avoid this onslaught of friendship Potter was implying. It was incredibly awkward.

Potter seemed to sense my hesitancy towards his proposition when he began to chuckle at my expense. "Pansy, listen." He said, stopping his backward trek and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "We're friends now, that's just a normal friendly thing to do-"

"Friends?" I interjected.

My interruption seemed to confuse the wizard for a second as he took in my expression. "Yeah, friends." He said slowly, as if to a child learning the alphabet.

I nodded, suddenly uncomfortable in the corridor we were in together. "When did," my breath caught in my throat as a constricting feeling began to take over my lungs. "When did this happen?" I asked, looking at him, suffocating.

Potter let his grin slip as he took in my demeanor, understanding. "I dunno," he rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable himself. "When we decided to sit next to each other for meals, walk each other to class, have civil conversation." He shrugged, looking at the stonewalls of the dungeons.

"Friends." I muttered, tossing the word around.

"Yeah." Was all Potter could get out.

I looked at all of him, took in his tall frame, the silly way his glasses slipped from his nose every now and then, and nodded. "Ok. Friends."

Potter looked up at me and smiled. It was a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and deep lines to form around his mouth. I found my mouth getting dry at the sight. "Then, as your new friend, I have a mission for you."

I cocked an eyebrow as if to question his intentions. Without waiting for my reply, his smile slipped into a smirk as he said, "Call me Harry."

* * *

"He's mad, I tell you."

Blaise laughed as he lounged across my bed with his head propped up by his elbow. "I kind of like him."

I turned to my Italian friend and scowled. "You like anyone who gives you a good show."

The wizard nodded, considering my words to be truth and smirked at my crestfallen expression. "I think you like him too, Pansy. You just don't want to admit that _Harry Potter_ of all people has made you want to be friends with him."

I waved him off as I considered my wardrobe for an outfit for next day's classes. "Do you think the scarlet robes would look good with mustard?" I asked, avoiding the topic of a certain sloppy haired man who certainly had intruded my life lately.

Blaise shook his head at my avoidance of the topic and with a loud sigh laid out on my bed, sprawled on his back. "You're changing the subject, that means you know I'm right."

I snorted, most ladylike, and chucked a shoe at him. "Shut it and help me with my clothing crisis."

With another smirk, he was up and next to me, peering at my wardrobe. "Anything would look good for classes. The real question is what are you going to wear when he asks you to go to _Hoggsmeade_?" He asked wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively.

I scowled at him and pushed my hands on his chest so that he stumbled back a few meters. "He is not going to ask me to go, Blaise. We're not chummy school kids." I smirked. "Besides, Harry and I aren't like that." We weren't.

Blaise's eyebrows shot up near his hairline at my words. "_Harry_ now, is it?"

I felt my eyes widen as I realized my slip up. Growling at him, I pushed him again. "Subject change, please."

He laughed for a short few seconds and then sobered. His change in expression so quickly had me looking at him, wondering if he was ok. He penetrated me with his eyes, almost requesting permission to continue. "Have you spoken to Draco lately? About Potter?"

I couldn't help my natural reflex to flinch at the name of the boy I had yet to get over's name coming from Blaise's lips. I was sure he'd perpetually have that affect on me. I shook my head in answer, running a hand along my clothing, anything to distract my mind from seeing visions of steely eyes and soft blonde hair…

"I shouldn't have mentioned him." Blaise said after a while of examining me with his eyes.

I snapped out of my reverie and attempted a small smile. "I'm fine." The truth was, I wasn't.

The mere weeks I had been away from Draco were nearly unbearable. I spent a good majority of everyday wondering what he was doing, hoping I had even a sliver of affect on him as he did me. The painful part was, I knew I didn't. I could still pretend if I wanted to.

"No, you're not." Blaise said matter-of-factly. "You've got that look about you, you know. Like you're lost. And you keep clutching at your chest, it's horrible." He said, making his point by pulling my clenching left hand away from it's relentless scratching.

It had gotten to be such a natural reaction to thoughts of Draco; I had begun to forget the action. It was such a part of me.

Blaise sighed and let go of my hand. He made his way back to my bed, sitting down and leaning his forehead against one of the railings of the posters. "I worry for you, you know." He said closing his eyes in…defeat? Exhaustion? Frustration? I couldn't read him.

"Don't. Please." I said quietly, running another hand along my clothing, turning my back to Blaise in order to keep my emotions in check. To lose my façade in front of Blaise would cause walls to crumble. I couldn't have that.

I heard him lay back down across my bed. "You know what you need, don't you?"

I simply made a 'hmmm?' sound, not really interested in whatever Blaise thought I needed, he had no idea.

"A rebound." He stated. "A good, hot, long rebound."

His vulgar tone caused me to turn on him, shocked at his implied message. "I will _not_ rebound on a student, Zabini."

This caused him to laugh now; obviously I hadn't gotten his idea fully. "I wouldn't allow you to!" He said, laughing at my scowling expression. "I'm talking about a professor, you know. Someone attractive, and funny." He said, serious now, but with a dangerously mischievous glint to his smirk.

I wasn't sure what he meant, so I looked at him, brow furrowed. "Huh?" I asked intelligently, not understanding why his smirk had spread so wide now. He looked like a lion.

"Someone with sloppy black hair and bright green eyes." He said. I had been wrong about the lion look. Blaise Zabini was fully snake.

The direction of his implication donned on me as I took in his expression and related it to the conversation we had been having only moments ago. "No." I breathed; shocked he would even suggest the possibility.

Blaise nodded, and stood, slinking towards me, watching me like a snake watches his dinner. I was a goner. "You need to rebound Potter, Pansy." He hissed. "Rebound him hard."

I was utterly shocked by the realization that I wasn't entirely opposed to the idea.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer**: I own NOTHING.

_Author's note_: So, this chapter is the longest one yet. More than 8,000 words! I want to take a moment to thank you reviewers for being absolutely incredible and giving me so much confidence!

Also, about the rating: It began as 'M' simply because I wasn't sure how I wanted to take this story, and where I wanted Pansy to go, so eventually I changed it to 'T' simply because I was sure there wasn't going to be anything but snogging, and maybe some interesting...dreams. I will, however, if this comes about, change this story to 'M' again if the content permits.

Warning: There's French(The translation will be at the end, it's rather simple), adorable Harry, and a pissed off Pansy in this chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

It took all of an hour for Blaise to end his rant on why I deserved a 'hot rebound' as he called it. He admitted to me how incredibly angry Draco had made him by treating me this way. He expressed his confusion of why he had chosen a 'bloody _Weasley_' over me, someone whom he had known far longer.

I made several attempts to express my indifference to the situation, my feeling of mutual love of Draco I shared with Ginny, but he wouldn't listen. Before long, Blaise was pacing back and forth in my room, speaking loudly and gesturing with his hands animatedly. It surprised me at how passionate my friend was about the issue of my 'rudely hurt feelings'. He cared for me, and his anger at Draco was concrete proof. I smiled at him, watching him walk a stiff, straight line to the right and turn abruptly on his heel and walk the same line back to the left. Even in his row of passion, he still strived for perfection.

He ended a sentence quietly, and brought his hand up to his hair, running it through frustratedly. He stopped pacing finally and pierced me with a deep, black-eyed look. "I'm not asking you to date the man, Pansy. Just…have fun." He said, waving a hand in the air for emphasis. "Bloody hell, make Draco _jealous_."

"Who's to say he'll even agree to it?" I asked Blaise, as a last stitch effort to make him realize that this was an insane idea.

Blaise shook his head, disappointed. "Any other witch would jump Potter's bones at the first thought, but you don't even think about him that way." He sighed.

I laughed, thinking of Harry Potter in any other way than a complete and total _dork_, was nearly impossible. The man rivaled my 17-year-old brother for title of troublemaker. Sure, Harry had grown handsome over the years, and he had been, as far as I knew, a good friend to me. He was fiercely loyal to people he loved, and that was admirable. But, dating Potter would be like dating Henry, my brother.

There was also the question of Potter's attraction to me. I had down right tortured most of his friends in school; people don't simply get over that. Sure, eight years had passed since we were students, but wounds took time to heal. Especially when they're repeatedly re-opened for six years non-stop. I admit, I was a horrible person when I was younger, and I'm sure Potter remembered that. If at all, vividly.

"He'd never voluntarily be with me, Blaise. It's _Harry Potter_ we're talking about." I stated.

Blaise simply stared at me, as if what I had just said had no effect what so ever. "And?" he asked with a raise of an eyebrow and a cross of his arms over his chest.

I stood, now pacing myself. "What do I say to him? 'Hey, I'm sorry for calling you and your friends names while you were at Hogwarts. Oh, and that whole wanting to turn you over to the dark lord? Haha, my bad! Now that we're older and you're hotter, we should pretend to date so I can make my ex-boyfriend, who wasn't ever really my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, the boy who tortured you even more, jealous!'?" I was near hysterics now.

Blaise stopped me with a cool hand on my shoulder. He examined my face before speaking, "Pansy, something tells me Potter has the ability to forgive." His voice was quiet.

I looked past Blaise and nodded. "Yeah, but I don't."

Blaise shrugged, moving over to the door of my bedroom and grasping the handle. "Maybe it's time that you stop blaming yourself for things that were out of your control. I think you'd find it's much easier to live without that burden."

I followed him out of my room to find Potter sitting over a pile of papers with a quill in his mouth at the table under the window. The fire on the other side of the room threw shadows across his face as he sat in a focused bubble. I silently thanked merlin for my idea of setting a silencing charm on my room before Blaise and I had begun our conversation. Knowing Harry knew anything about what Blaise had just implied would be incredibly embarrassing and awkward for our situation. He looked up as we entered the room, gave a nod to Blaise and a grin to me.

"Being a professor is harder than they told me." He grinned, shaking his head and running a hand through his already messy hair.

Blaise laughed and nodded, "I'd have to agree with you there, mate. These kids will eat you alive if you let them." With that, he turned to me, gave me a knowing look and a kiss on the forehead before stepping out of the brick wall that sealed itself up behind him.

I stared at the place I had last seen his back for a while before turning back to Harry and sitting myself across from him quietly. "Lesson plans?" I asked, glancing at a book on Mulberry Poltees open next to him.

Harry ran another hand through his hair and sighed. "Somewhat. I'm trying to find a way to include rare magic in my classes, but they interfere with my plans on basic defense." He looked up at me and smiled. "How's Blaise?"

I started a bit at the sudden turn of conversation but quickly snapped out of it. "He's fine. A tad bit eccentric, but he's always been that way." I shrugged, looking off at the green window above our heads.

Potter chuckled while glancing at the book to his side and jotting a few notes down. "I'm almost done with this, after do you want to go down to the kitchens and get some ice cream?"

I looked over at him, still looking down at his writing and nodded. "Yeah, that would be fine."

He smiled looking at me again. "Brilliant."

It took at least 10 minutes for him to finish and a lot of muttering under his breath about the ministry curriculum before he stood up stretched his arms above his head and took the book out of my hands from behind the couch. "Ready?" he asked, holding the book out of my reach.

I made several attempts at reaching it, but finally gave into pouting to get my way. "Hey!" I said when he simply laughed and held it higher.

After a few minutes of the 'Pansy short game' he gave in with a reluctant chuckle and gave me the book. "You're so short."

I gave him a glare and folded down the page I was on, placing the book on the table along with his study materials. "Maybe you're just a right giant." I muttered darkly.

Harry laughed again, obviously amused with tiffing me off. "Yeah, yeah." He said, standing near the exit of our common room. "Come along, grumpy one."

I frowned at him, but complied and followed him out into the flickering light of the dungeons. Once again, my cloak didn't protect me against the chilly temperature. I flinched as a gust of cool wind came past us on our way up the steps to the main corridors.

Noticing my shivering, Harry offered his cloak, but I waved him off, telling him I'd be better once we were in the kitchens. We walked with light conversation about the day and our classes, but my mind kept straying back to mine and Blaise's conversation, and I found myself somewhat tuning out Potter's words as I thought about what Blaise was suggesting.

Could I have a relationship with Harry? Would it even work? He seemed nice enough, from our three-week acquaintance, but the fact was that I simply didn't know the man. Sure, for three weeks, we spoke about anything and everything, minus Draco, but that didn't mean I knew everything about him. I wasn't even sure if he wanted to be married, or if he wanted kids, or even how he felt about pumpkin juice. And, sure, these weren't things absolutely necessary for what Blaise was implying I start with him, but for my sanity's sake, I didn't want to enter into something I knew I wouldn't have control over.

That was really the entire reason I even questioned anything happening between Harry and I. My body wasn't ready for another relapse into any type of relationship. What Draco and I had, if you could even call it a relationship, had ended badly. Well, at least on my side. And, as much as I tried to deny it for Blaise's sake, I wasn't fine. Anytime I was reminded of something about Draco, it was like a torture curse to the chest. The pain was still there, raw, and insistent. There was a part of my brain that constantly screamed at me to get over Draco and move on, I knew that was the logical ending to this. But, there were still a few very small parts of me that wondered if he could ever reciprocate my feelings, and that was enough to move mountains. Those small parts spread thoughts and fake hopes about the blonde and I into my mind on a constant basis.

And unwillingly, my love for Draco ate me from the inside out.

There was just too much going on, too much handicapped me for me to be able to be anything to Harry except maybe a friend. He deserved more than my broken mind, and my labored thoughts. Because, I knew, deep down, that I would never be able to get over Draco. He'd always be there, taunting me.

I was interrupted from my dwellings when Harry tickled the pair and let us both into the warm kitchens. The temperature change had me heading straight towards an already set up sitting area near a large and amazingly warm fire. Harry took care of the house elves, ordering two bowls of ice cream with as much toppings as they could find to put on it.

When our bowls arrived, we dug our spoons in wordlessly and watched the fire crackling. I instantly wished I had brought a book with me, as I sat in the near perfect conditions of a reading spot.

Harry ate silently, thankfully allowing me to mull over my thoughts as I continued to stare at the fire. I silently wanted him to speak, though. My thoughts of Draco were making my chest hurt again.

As if hearing my thoughts, he cleared his throat lightly before jarring me from the silence. "Is something wrong with your arm?" He asked, pointing towards my left hand that clutched at the middle of my chest.

I put it down self-consciously and smiled weakly at him. "Nope. All's well."

Whether it was my expression or the tone of my voice, he nodded curtly and looked around at the kitchens, bustling with house elves. "It's nice to be down here after a long day."

I swirled around the quickly melting ice cream in my bowl and nodded. Harry sighed, put his bowl down on the cushion between us on the large couch and slumped down onto the fluffy pillows behind him. "How long have you and Blaise been friends?"

"A while." I answered, not looking up from the messy swirl in my bowl.

Harry sighed again, obviously frustrated from my lack of conversation, but chuckled anyway. "I know, Pansy, but, how _long_? Years wise."

I looked at him finally, meeting eyes with him. "About 22 years." I stated.

Harry raised both eyebrows in surprise and nodded. "You two seem close, is all." He laughed awkwardly.

I nodded absently. "What about Malf-err, Draco?"

I froze as the pain returned, drip by nasty drip. "The same." I found myself whispering, tearing my eyes from him and staring off at a point past the wizard.

Harry seemed to nod, obviously uncomfortable with my reactions. Our conversation didn't seem to survive the waves of my insane emotional ride as I was frozen into thoughts consumed of Draco again. I wanted so badly just to hear him say my name, to hug me back for once, to love me.

I shook my head in an attempt to empty the road of pain I was about to go down from my mind. Crying in front of Harry Potter would seem to put me at a disadvantage, and I needed to be able to control my reactions and thoughts in his presence. I glanced at him, smiling lightly.

"The ice cream was good." Was my attempt at conversation.

Harry nodded, eyeing me suspiciously. "Can I ask you something?" he said suddenly.

I nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going. "You and Blaise," he began, wringing his hands in discomfort. "Are you two, err, erm, I mean, are you two uh-"

"Am I dating Blaise?" I interrupted him, saving him from finishing the question.

He looked at me, relieved and nodded. I began to laugh a bit, thinking of any semblance of a relationship Blaise and I could have. "I don't think I'm his type exactly."

Harry seemed confused for a moment, so I restated my answer, "Blaise is gay, Potter. Like, into blokes, gay."

A violent blush crossed Harry's features as he realized Blaise's preferences. "Oh, erm…" he trailed off, looking extremely uncomfortable.

I laughed, taking in his Gryffindor scarlet color. "You, kind sir, rival a tomato at this moment." I stated, pointing a lazy finger at his face.

This caused him to blush even further. I smiled in triumph. Blaise would have a field day with this one. Making Harry Potter blush was more fun than shopping. Well, maybe second to shopping.

"Why'd you want to know?" I asked, saving him from explaining his thoughts on my Italian friend's sexuality.

Harry shuffled around on the couch a bit before getting comfortable. "He's just really, I dunno, careful around you. He acts like you're going to break." He explained with a shrug, his blush fading slowly.

I flinched, not sure how much I should tell about Blaise's reasoning behind his insane over protectiveness. I breathed in deeply through my nose, and looked at Harry. "I had a pretty difficult summer holiday. Blaise is just watching out for me, I think." I bit my lip to restrain any words about _rebounds_.

Harry nodded, his brow furrowed. "What was so difficult?"

"I have a lot of problems, Potter." I admitted, sighing deeply. "I'm pretty messed up in here." I said, tapping a finger to my temple. "You don't want in, trust me."

He seemed to think for a bit about what I had said before looking at me with a stern look. "If anyone has problems, it's me. I think I kind of out-rank the problem competition."

"I think we're all a little mad." I said.

Harry laughed, "So what's the problem?"

I shook my head. "You don't want to know, believe me."

And he didn't. I sometimes wished I didn't remember Draco's relationship with Weasley. Sometimes I thought that if I could just forget it existed, then maybe it would no longer be happening. Of course, that was in my mind, outside the stonewalls of my head, Draco was happily dating Ginny Weasley, and that caused me to want to dream even harder.

I couldn't just up and tell Harry Potter about my situation. For one, it would most likely lead him to think me pathetic for pining after someone so obviously not into me. And two, Harry dated Ginny for a while after the war, I was sure the wound was healed and nice, but who would I be to come and tear it open for him? I couldn't bring him down with me. I needed to handle my insanity and avoid at all costs the ever-present desire to spill everything to Harry. There was just no way to make it better.

Of course, if I told him, then maybe the rebound idea wouldn't be so far off. Maybe if I told Potter, the making Draco jealous part would interest him too. It could be a win-win situation for me. But, was I really able and willing to use Harry for my own means? Sure, that was a very cunning, Slytherin trait, but Harry and I had slowly been becoming friends, and I was beginning to rely on his talks with me. I began to need Harry, too.

It was a sudden thought, really. I hadn't even realized it harboring in the back of mind until I had to drag out my reasons why I kept Draco and I so quiet. If I told Harry, he'd help. He'd comfort, and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't hate me for being so incredibly selfish and using him to get to Draco.

"Pansy, are you ok?" Harry asked, his green eyes searching me for ailments.

I nodded, finally responding. I had made my decision. "Draco and I…" I trailed off, not sure how to begin this painful subject. A nod from Harry gave me the courage to start my explanation again. "Right after I found out I was going to be a professor, I found out Draco didn't love me as much as I thought." I paused, breathing deeply, and then continued. "We had a sort of…er, relationship at that point. Anyway, he came over to my flat in London and told me that he-" I glanced at Harry, trying to gather his reaction at the news, but his face was blank, looking at me. "he told me that he had fallen in love with Ginny Weasley." I let out.

The pain in my chest constricted. I watched Harry's reaction for any type of pain he may have been harboring, but he only nodded for me to continue. "I freaked out." I said, remembering the numbness. "I was so in love with him, Harry. I was sure it was a joke." I admitted, looking down at my hands that were shaking. "That was at least a month before we started here. And, ever since then, I've been trying to convince myself I'm alright."

I felt Harry's arms around me before I realized that he was pulling me against his chest. His warmth encased me all over my body. His smell drowned me as he crushed me against him. I was frozen from shock at the sudden embrace, unable to contemplate my next move, but his reassuring hand rubbing slow circles on my back made me melt into his arms.

Neither of us spoke as he continued his lazy circles down my spine and across my ribs. I couldn't help but relax against his chest, he was everywhere.

"I imagined my mom would do this to me if I ever had a bad day." Harry finally spoke, the hum of his voice traveled through his chest as my cheek laid against it. "I don't remember her, but sometimes, if I focused really hard, I'd dream about her hugging me." He said.

I nodded, not able to find words to reply to his confession. My problems seemed miniscule as I remembered Harry's parents and the sacrifice they made to keep their son alive. I fought the tears that crowded my vision at the thought of being alone and without family. His loyalty to his friends became indescribably clear.

When he set me back in my spot, I found myself leaning towards him, craving the heat that emanated from his skin. He smelled incredible. "Sorry." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

I wasn't able to do anything else except shake my head. The image of Harry's mother enveloping Harry in an identical embrace he had just given me made something in me stir.

I needed to hug him again.

I held my arms still by my side, though as I watched him glance around the kitchens. "I used to come here after curfew back in school sometimes." He admitted.

I found a goofy smile fluttering on my face. "What was your favorite thing to eat?" I asked, finding my voice finally.

He smiled, finally looking at me. "I loved the pumpkin pastries."

I nodded, thinking to many feasts over the fall season in which the pumpkin desert was a constant.

We sat in front of the fire for moments that seemed to drag on and on.

My skin burned from the memory of being covered in Harry's embrace.

* * *

We walked silently down the corridors on our way back, both us seemingly wrapped in our minds.

My mind flittered around in a mess of ideas, topics to admit to Harry, for reasons I couldn't fathom. Things I wanted, no, _needed_ him to know about me. The high of finally telling someone out loud about Draco and I encased me as I nearly floated along at Harry's side. The feeling was ethereal.

I couldn't keep my eyes from the brunette's profile as he walked next to me, looking down at his hand twirling his wand between his fingers. The shadow of the spinning light from its tip dashing across his handsome features as he thought on ominously. I wondered what caused the deep 'v' in between his dark eyebrows, and the grim set of his mouth. I wanted to know his mind.

His green eyes caught me mid-stare and a slow smile slid onto his handsome mouth. I help back a gasp as I realized that I was irrevocably attracted to Harry Potter.

_Wait, what?_

No.

No, I was not _attracted_ to Harry at all. I missed Draco. That's what the small flutter in my stomach was. Sure, Harry was handsome, but no one compared to Draco. No one ever would. I couldn't help but tear my eyes away from Potter's and look straight ahead as I attempted to take control of the situation. I breathed deeply and decided that my 'friendship' with Harry had gone too far.

I drew the line at minor attraction. I didn't need to start anything with anyone. Blaise was delusional and bored. That's why he had suggested I rebound on Potter. Simply for his entertainment.

Thinking that way made my head hurt. My body was confused as to what my mind wanted. And my heart had long been laying low. It was in a corner of my body somewhere, licking its wounds, mending the breaks. Every fiber of my being was drowning in confusion. I didn't know what I wanted or felt.

I became incredibly exhausted at the thought of figuring anything out.

A rustling sound and muffled whispers interrupted me mid yawn as my attention was drawn to the interruption of the deep quiet of the supposedly sleeping castle. My head snapped to Harry, who was already looking at me. We shared a knowing glance before turning out attention to what could possibly lie before us.

I couldn't help but squint my eyes as I tried to see anything through the abyss of darkness ahead. The whispers continued, however, and they were getting closer as we took slow steps. Harry put a hand out, ushering me behind him in a protective manner as he walked cautiously forward.

We were getting close enough to hear a semblance of a conversation now. I closed my mouth, muffling my heavy breathing to be able to strain my ears to hear words. It worked as I heard a muffled, "Please, we'll get caught!" a female voice said.

A small chuckle could be heard and then a male voice, "Isn't danger fun?"

I froze behind Harry as I instantly recognized the voice of the male. Harry glanced at me over his shoulder to see why I had stopped. Anger blinded me as I pushed past him and held my lit wand further in front of me as I stomped on.

The voices were incredibly clearer now and I could make out the forms of a tall boy clad in a relaxed Slytherin uniform hovering over a small girl at least a foot shorter than him in a Hufflepuff uniform. The two looked up as they saw the glow my wand admitted nearing them.

The Slytherin boy squinted in an attempt to see the owner of the wand, and once he got a glance of my face, he paled, gulping and stepping away from the position he had been in.

A squeak of surprised fear came from the Hufflepuff girl as she hid behind the tall form of the boy. I put on my best glare for the Slytherin as I neared them, not caring if my lit wand hurt their eyes that were accustomed to the darkness around them.

As I walked up only a few meters from the two students, I placed a hand on my hip and hardened my glare. "It's after curfew, you two." I growled, my eyes never leaving the chocolate brown eyes of the tall Slytherin.

The girl pulled on the boy's sleeve in an attempt to usher him away, but her companion stayed stock still as he kept his eyes on mine, paling by the minute. "Can't you just let us go?" he whispered, begging with wide, scared eyes.

Harry finally caught up with me, breathing heavily as he took in the situation with a furrowed brow. "Maybe just this once, huh Pansy?" he chuckled giving me a nudge with his elbow.

I shook my head stiffly, causing the young boy to gulp once more. "This sort of behavior is looked down upon, _Henry_." I spat.

My younger brother flinched at my tone as he looked around me to my fellow professor, preparing his begging face. "_Please_, professor. We'll never do this again." He promised.

Harry sighed and nodded, looking at me for assurance. "Just this once."

I shook my head again. "You may go." I said menacingly to the Hufflepuff. "10 points from Hufflepuff. Don't let me catch you again. _Especially _with this one." I pointed to my brother, causing another flinch from him.

She nodded hurriedly, turned without a word and left. Henry glanced over her shoulder at her, longing to leave too. I cleared my throat to get his attention. Slowly turning his head, he smiled sheepishly at me. "Hey, Pans. How's it going?" His charming arrogance missed my attention as I snorted.

"Don't you dare think I'm letting you off just because we share blood." I growled.

My brother gulped as Harry cleared his throat beside me. "Sorry…I think I'm missing something, Pansy. What's going on?" he asked, glancing between Henry and I.

Henry laughed awkwardly, wrapping a long arm around my neck, pulling me into a chokehold. "This here, is my beloved sister." His smirk was mischievous as he rustled my hair.

I slapped him away violently and straightened my outfit and hair. "Harry, this is my younger brother, Henry. He's a seventh year, and apparently he's too much of an arrogant git to follow rules." I said, sending my sibling an icy glare.

Harry laughed from my side, holding out a hand to Henry. "Pleased to meet you, Henry. Harry Potter."

My brother's doe-like brown eyes widened as he shook the man's hand. Henry had a small obsession with Harry and his achievements. No doubt he was already incredibly jealous that I was employed in the same profession as _Saint Potter_ as my brother preferred to refer to him as. I rolled my eyes and slapped Henry's hand down. "Sod the introduction, and tell me why I shouldn't send an owl to mum right now about you and your escapades with a _Hufflepuff_." I couldn't help keep the grimace off my face as I made the threat. Too many years of practice hating the, otherwise, weak house.

Henry's eyes snapped to me and he jutted his lower lip out, instantly becoming my 8-year-old brother, begging me to tell him stories about Hogwarts again. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his attempt, already annoyed by his cunning ability to persuade me. He was a Slytherin, after all. "Ok, I'll leave mum out of this, just this once." I said sternly, locking eyes with him. "But, if you decide to do this again," I warned, pointing a threatening finger at him. "Your arse is grounded for all eternity."

The threat set into Henry's mind, he nodded, and smiled. "You are the best!" he said, jumping onto me for another hug.

I couldn't help laughing at his enthusiasm, but to save face, I pushed him off after a couple of seconds with a scowl planted on my face. "Whatever. Go to bed, you prat." I said, pushing him in the way of his dormitories.

He nodded, waving a hand at me dismissively, turning around and giving a small wave to Harry before jogging on his way. I looked after him, shaking my head in defeat. The boy was hopelessly mischievous.

My head turned as I heard Harry chuckling softly beside me. I glared at him now, not even a little amused by having a weakness for Henry. The boy knew my buttons. "Not a word, Potter." I warned, charging forward without waiting for him to catch up with me.

When he did, his hands were held up in defense, but his eyes were light with humor. "He's not so bad."

I gave him a look, silencing his laughs instantly. "My brother is a nuisance." I stated through gritted teeth, which caused another fit of laughter from Harry. He ended up clutching his stomach and wiping away mock tears.

I gave him a few minutes to laugh whatever he found funny out as I silently seethed by his side. Eventually he sobered, as we took the stairs down to the dungeons he cleared his throat. "He looks like you." He said, smiling at me.

I scowled. "I know."

Harry smiled again, nudging my side. "You know you love him."

I swatted him away, but couldn't hold the laugh in. "Yeah, yeah."

* * *

"Today, we'll be working on wand movements."

The entire classroom of first years groaned dramatically.

I smirked as I turned my back to them, grabbing the Charms book off my desk. "Turn to page 239."

Another groan flittered across the room, muttered this time by the sounds of the students flipping pages and grumbling to their friends next to them.

The first years were a tough crowd to please. On one hand, their inexperience with simple charms such as '_lumos' _or '_accio_' caused me to have to give them study materials and essays over the actions and uses for such spells. However, I wasn't out to make their lives miserable, and I did desire for them to at least have a small amount of fun in my class their first year. I tried to win them over with a relaxed atmosphere, and fun activities when the lesson didn't call for bookwork, but I found it hard to incorporate 'fun' material. I remember absolutely hating my first year of Charms.

Flitwick had realized our dislike of the subject immediately, so he reassured us, then, that with patience and focus, we'd grow to love the subject. He had been right. I ended my years at Hogwarts loving every minute I had spent in his classroom. I wanted my students to be able to appreciate this class as much as I did. And for this matter, I quickly formed a pep talk.

"Ok, let's take a second from our work to have a little…chat." I said, conjuring a stool to sit on in front of the class.

A few Slytherins in the back cheered, but were silenced once I sent a stern look their way. I looked out over my students, smiling at them, begging them to understand. "I know how this class must seem to you." I said, taking a second to look at each student's face. "Since this term began, all I've made you do is book work about wand movements, or little spells you think you might not need in the future."

At my last word, a small, blonde Ravenclaw shoved her hand into the air, pleading me to answer her question. I eyed her, smiling, but ignored her hand. "My first year, the Charms professor was a small, little man by the name of Flitwick. He had this squeaky voice and had to stand on a stack of books to see over the top of our heads!" I said, gesturing with my hands beside me at the memory of the stack of books used as a teaching stand.

A collective muttered chuckle resonated throughout the students as I continued. "He made us work on essays for the first month of classes." I said. "And, to be quite honest, at first, I completely resented him." The students were silent as they looked at me with wide eyes. "However," I continued, breaking my serious tone with a smile. "He told us the second day of classes to not think ill of him, or write off Charms as that class you'd rather not have. Because, without Charms, we wouldn't be able to perform the simplest of spells." I said.

The blonde Ravenclaw raised her hand again, waving her arm impatiently. I breathed through my nose, an attempt to stay calm, and kept talking. "I know that right now, the book work and essays are tedious." I said, crossing my legs at the ankle and looking over my students again. "But, trust me, be patient, and this might just end up to be your favorite class during your stay at Hogwarts." I said with a knowing smile. "And, who knows? Maybe one day, when you're older, you'll be taking my place as the new Charms professor." I said, handing them another smile as the toll sounded for change of class.

The first years stayed in their seats, not sure how to react to the warning bell. I smiled, stood and waved them off. "Go on. Change of classes." I smiled. "I gave you the day off, don't expect any further mercy!" I warned as they ushered out of the doors.

I nearly made it up the three small steps to my office when I heard a small "Um, Professor Parkinson?"

I turned to see the small, blonde Ravenclaw looking at me with wide, hazel eyes. I smiled at her, and waved her into my office, sitting down at the comfy chair behind my cluttered desk. "Hello, Miss Rigby. I'm sorry I couldn't answer your questions during class." I said, gesturing for her to take a seat. "I was, how they say it, on 'a roll'?" I smiled at her.

The young Rigby girl laughed awkwardly and sat in the chair in front of my desk, looking at me with wide, scared eyes. "I was just, erm, wondering if there was any chance of extra credit?" She asked, trailing off quieter as her question went on.

I smiled reassuringly at her, somewhat amused by her fear of me. I wasn't that menacing was I? "Dear, speak up, I won't bite." I promised, flashing a toothy grin.

She nodded and repeated her question louder. I nodded, putting my hands together in contemplation. This is, what I imagined, what Granger was most likely like her first year, begging professors for extra credit. Anything to get those extra points on her marks. I smirked, but let it fade as I watched the small girl begin to tremble. "I apologize, love, but as of right now, the only work I am handing out is for class only." I said, looking through my papers and waving my wand over them to sort them in neat piles.

The small student nodded and stood, still trembling. "I'm so sorry to take up your time, then, professor. Thank you for your help." She muttered, ducking her head and turning to leave.

I stopped her with a call of her name and she froze on spot. "Miss Rigby, I'm going to allow you to do something for me." I said, watching her turn around to face me. "But only because you came to me, when you obviously were nervous, and asked. I will try to reward my students who strive for greatness with anything they deserve." I smiled.

The small girl visibly relaxed as she gave me a small smile, glancing up at me from her blonde hair. "W-what do you have in mind, professor?" She asked, her voice still small.

"I may begin to create lesson plans in which I ask for volunteers for certain charms or movements." I said. "If you volunteer, and participate correctly, I mind you, I will award you 5 points extra credit on your mid-term paper."

The girl's large eyes widened at my words. She ducked her head and smiled widely. "Would you be interested?" I asked, smiling myself.

She snapped her head up, a flush crawling up her neck. "Of course, professor! I won't let you down!" She practically shouted.

I smiled and waved her out of my office, standing up and ushering her out with a hand on her back. "Good. I thought you would. " I smiled, watching her skip out of my room.

"That's a nice thing you did for her." Harry said, appearing from the back of the classroom suddenly.

"She had the guts to ask." I shrugged.

Harry smiled at me, and offered his arm as he walked my way. "You're a generous professor. Flitwick would be proud."

I laughed, thinking of the small, squeaky man who had inspired me during my school years. "Flitwick would have my head if he knew I spent an entire class _talking_ to them."

Harry laughed, and shrugged, walking me out the door of my classroom. "Well, then it's a good thing _we're_ the professors now, isn't it?"

"I suppose so." I said, hardly able to contain my smile in return.

* * *

Later on that day, my third years were silent as they read from their books, writing notes as I scrawled the subject points down on the large, old chalk board at the front of the room with a charmed piece of chalk. I sat on the stool I had conjured earlier for the first years and read as I occasionally glanced up at the students scratching away with their quills from the top of my book.

My third years were one of the more behaved classes. Which I found funny, due to the fact that in _my_ third year, Draco, Blaise and I had caused the most havoc.

The classroom was completely still, minus the flip of pages and scratches of quill on paper. That was, at least, until Harry popped the door open and leaned his head in. The entire class found it a sign that they were allowed to speak as most of them either gasped, laughed or began to chat with their neighbors.

I glared at my students as I made my way to the far left of the classroom, waving at them to decrease their disturbance. "Quiet, you lot." I shouted, giving Harry a look of annoyance at the uproar he had caused.

He smiled sheepishly and gave me a wink. I started. _Did Harry Potter just _wink_ at me?_ "Could I have a word?" He asked.

I balked at him, and then waved a hand at my students that had now resorted to catcalls and suggestive whistling. "Can't it wait?"

"It won't be long." He promised.

I sighed, but nodded reluctantly, turning to my students and fixing them with a glare. "I will be right back." I muttered threateningly. "You know your punishment for breaking the rules." And with that, I turned to Potter and allowed him to usher me out of my classroom. I smirked, pleased at the silence we left behind as he led me to a small alcove in the stonewall outside my room.

"What's this about, Potter?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. "It better be important, I have a very important test coming u-"

"Go to Hoggsmeade with me this weekend." He stated.

I felt like a fish as my mouth opened and closed intelligently, lost for words.

_What?_

* * *

I dodged a loose stone on the path to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest as I made my way to the Care of magical creatures class. The location of the class itself was reason enough for me not to like it back in school, I was never one for trees, or anything…nature related.

I found Blaise teaching in front of a class of seventh years as he held up what looked to be a unicorn horn in his hands. He spoke with a calm voice, and occasionally slipped in a funny remark, causing his students to appraise him with bits of laughter. Blaise had long been the favorite professor among Hogwarts, it didn't help that his female students couldn't stop talking about how gorgeous he was.

As I approached, Blaise looked up in surprise and paused in the middle of something he was saying. Whether it was due to my sudden presence during his class, or my heated glare, I didn't know. That didn't stop me from walking up to him until I was mere millimeters from his face.

"_Qu'avez-vous fait_?" I demanded, using a language I knew we were both fluent in. The students stared on in shock at my confrontation.

Blaise's eyes widened as he took in my anger. "_De quoi parlez-vous?_" He replied in smooth, accented French, not missing a beat.

I laughed incredulously. The man was impossible, and my anger flared as he stared at me blankly, feigning innocence. "_Avez-vous dit Potter pour me demander de passer à Hoggsmeade avec lui_?" I nearly shrieked at him.

"Harry asked you to go to Hoggsmeade?" Henry shouted from somewhere behind us. I turned to glare at him, angry with myself somewhat for not noticing my little brother in the class before diving into a language he was also fluent in.

Blaise's chuckling made me turn back to him, the man was going to die at my hands if he found this at all humorous. "Don't. You. Dare. Laugh. Zabini." I warned, spitting out each word as a deadly threat.

The effect was instantaneous as the dark skinned wizard gulped and leaned away from me. "Ok, I swear. No laughing." He said, holding his hands up in defense. I relaxed a bit and straightened my posture, but never allowed my glare to slip from his face. "Can we talk about this later? I have a very important lesson to teach." He said, waving a hand at his students behind us.

I nodded, turning to them and giving them an apologetic smile, but then turned back to Blaise and frowned. "You better have a good reason, or I swear, I'-"

"Ok, ok. I get it." He breathed, pushing me away with a shuddering breath.

I gave him one last glare, and brushed off Henry's questions as I made my way back to the castle, far angrier than I had intended to be that morning.

* * *

Before he had a chance to walk past me into the Great Hall, I grabbed Blaise and dragged him into a small alcove, pushing him against the wall. He let out a hiss of pain as his back collided with the hard stone, but I paid no attention. My anger blinded me.

"Speak. Now." I grit out.

Blaise's handsome features were shiny with a layer of sweat. His eyes were wide as he realized I had found him out. "I did it for you." Was all he said.

I almost laughed out loud, but refrained and instead poked him hard in the chest with my index finger. "Are you serious?" I shouted. "Did what for me? Embarrassed me or made me look pathetic? Which part of that was for me?" I demanded.

Blaise tried to get away from the wall, but I pushed him back again. "Listen, Pansy, Harry could be good for you." He said softly, urgently. "He's a good guy, and he likes you."

I ignored everything he said, and began to pace, but not before glaring at him. "No, you listen, Blaise. What you're trying to do is ridiculous. Maybe I go on a date with Potter, maybe I don't. Whether or not I do is _my_ business." I said, thrusting a hand at my chest to make my point. "Stay out of it. Stop with this over protective rubbish."

He blanched at my words, and a hurt look crossed his handsome face. "'Over protective rubbish'?" He repeated, searching my face. "Pansy, you may not recall, but Malfoy _ripped_ you apart." He spat, taking a step forward when I flinched. "I _love _you enough to not want that to happen again." He said slowly. "Now, Potter may or may not be the guy for you, but you have to try, because as of right now, all you've done is walk around this castle, looking like some fashionable ghost, clutching your chest and yelling at those who try to help you. You can either move on or let Draco destroy you." He said, stepping up to me in a challenge.

I looked up at him, anger pulsing through my being. "You don't know anything." I said quietly.

He scoffed. "Oh, don't I? Aren't I the one trying to help you, Pansy? Or are you too daft to recognize a real friend?"

"Sod. Off." I spat, no longer able to look at him.

He stood still for a moment, unsure of his next move and then sighed, shook his head and walked into the Great Hall, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

Inside, my head was a mess.

Outside, my life an even bigger one.

* * *

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Pansy. I know you better that that. Tell me."

"No."

"Then will you at least answer my question?"

"Which question?"

"You know which one."

"I-uh…no." I managed, taking my glare away from the students in front of me and turning it to Harry, who, while sitting next to me, had a pumpkin juice mustache. It was cute. _No it wasn't._ I shook my head, and smiled at him. "Harry, lets talk about something else, yeah? How were your classes?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, put down his goblet full of pumpkin juice and looked at me. "You've avoiding the subject. I only want just a simple 'yes' or 'no'. I don't need an explanation," He said, his eyes were pleading. "although, if you do say 'no', I may wonder a bit, but I won't annoy you after, promise." He held up two fingers and intertwined them with a goofy grin.

I laughed and looked him over. If I said 'yes' to this, what would happen? Would that be considered a date? Or just a friendly outing? And, what was Harry expecting? Hand holding? Snogging? There was no way I could agree to this.

But if I said 'no', would that tamper with mine and Harry's friendship? Would he not want to be my friend? Just thinking about Harry not wanting to be friends anymore made my chest hurt. I clutched at it again, and turned towards my food. I hadn't touched anything yet. I wasn't hungry, and this day just kept getting worse.

Harry put a warm hand on my back and began to rub circles. I relaxed then, but I was pretty sure my hand was still clutching. "I didn't mean to make you think of…the _D word_." He said, shaking his head. 'The D word' was how Harry referred to Draco after he realized how I flinched every time I heard his name. "You don't have to go if you don't want to, you know. I'm not the type of bloke to get angry at you for something so small."

I looked at him, took in his pumpkin juice mustache, his bright green eyes and his sloppy black hair and, unconsciously, I nodded. Harry froze, his eyes grew impossibly brighter as he took in my gesture. "Yeah?" He whispered excitedly. I nodded again. "Seriously?" He nearly yelled, causing quite a few people to stare at him.

His hand left my back, but his touch returned when he grabbed my hand, planted a light kiss on the corner of my palm and beamed at me. "Thank you, Pansy." He grinned. I couldn't help but smile back at him, his expression was entirely contagious. He looked from me to my food and then frowned. My plate was full and untouched. "You should eat. You're far too thin." He said, looking over my torso with a shake of his head.

I laughed and playfully pushed him, then picked up my fork and began to cut a piece of broccoli. "If you'd care to stop checking me out, I'll be fine to eat, Mr. Potter." I dared, sneaking a sideways glance at him. The effect was instantaneous as his jaw dropped open, but he saw me look at him and broke out into a mischievous grin.

"Miss Parkinson, I do believe you were just flirting with me." He said, picking up the hand he had let go and tracing lazy patterns on the open palm.

I gasped mockingly dramatic and shook my head. "_Never_." I smirked.

But I was, without a doubt, inexplicably flirting.

And, for once, the insistent ache in my chest began to dull.

* * *

And here's the French!

Pansy: _What did you do?_

__Blaise: _What are you talking about?_

__Pansy: _Did you tell Potter to ask me to go with him to Hoggsmeade?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!

_Author's note: _Thank you for all of the reviews! Seriously, you guys rock.

Warning: Shameless ogling of Harry in this chapter, and a bit of a dark turn for Pansy's mentality. Sorry about the shortness of this one, I had a bit of a hard time with this. Writer's block and all. :/

Also, I'm thinking the next chapter might be a little..._risqué_...what are your opinions on what the rating for this story should be?

As always, enjoy!

* * *

I had to be dreaming.

It was the only explanation as to why Blaise Zabini was suddenly in mine and Harry's common room, laughing very loudly with Harry at an odd hour of the night. It was the weekend, yes, but that didn't mean I was ok with Blaise disrupting my sleep.

I decided that I couldn't be asleep when, upon seeing me storm out of my room with an angry look on my face, Harry pulled me into his lap roughly and buried his face into my hair. "You _s-smellllll _so good." The wizard slurred, running a hand up my leg and giggling. Yes, Harry Potter _giggled_.

I pushed off of him and slapped his hand away, while glaring at Blaise who was laughing also. "You got him drunk!" I shouted at the suave man who handled his alcohol far too well.

Blaise looked up at me amused. "I did. We were having fun, too, until you came in and ruined the party."

I decided to ignore Blaise's snarky remarks as I slapped Harry's hand off of my leg again and shoved a finger towards his room. "You. Bed. Now." I ordered in a motherly way. I was used to handling a drunk Draco, he was about as lightweight as a feather.

Harry looked up at me, his glasses were crooked on his nose, and his eyes were glazed over. "B-but, I don't want to!" he began to laugh, standing up and bringing me into an embrace. Before I could stop him, he was dragging me around the room in a sloppy dance, humming some type of song.

I pushed him off, struggling against his strong hold. "Harry, you're drunk, and you smell like alcohol. Go to bed, and I promise to not remind you of the groping you've done already in the morning."

Harry laughed again, and looked at me with an odd expression. "You're so…attractive when you're angry." He said. I froze, attempting to ignore his drunken bravery.

"Harry, go to bed before you say something you'll regret." I said, shoving him lightly towards his door.

He caught my wrist in a loose grip and held it to his chest, over his beating heart that began to stutter and pump heavily as my hand grazed over it. "You're attractive all the time, _Panssssssssy_." He drawled, pulling me to him in a heavy embrace again. "I want you _sssssso_ b-" he began to whisper in my ear, far too loudly to be a secret, but Blaise had made his way to the pissed wizard, stopping him from his confession.

"Ok, Potter, let's go before you tell all of your secrets before the night's up!" Blaise said, laughing while he practically dragged Harry to his room.

I glared at Blaise when he came out almost five minutes later, in an attempt to not focus on what Harry had been about to admit. I had a slight idea, but didn't need to know all the details. It would only make things more awkward.

"You shouldn't have done that, Blaise." I said, sitting down in Harry's vacated spot, still warm from his body.

Blaise looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Oh, so you're talking to me again." Was all he said.

I rolled my eyes at Blaise's immaturity and frowned. "I wasn't ignoring you." I said, and I wasn't. I was just angry. Angry at Blaise for knowing me so well, for trying to protect me from the pain I didn't want to acknowledge. Angry at myself for being in pain over something so pathetic. I sighed, looking him over. "I'm sorry, for what I said, I mean."

He looked at me, his eyes were soft, deep onyx. "I'm sorry, too." He said, sitting down next to me. He didn't hold my hand, he never did, but his nearness was enough. "I've been horrible about this…" he paused, narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, unsure whether or not to say Draco's name. "I could be more considerate."

I shook my head. "No, you're just trying to help me, and for that, I can't thank you enough." I said, I wasn't sure how to comfort him. At that moment, I began to realize how starkly different the Gryffindors I had met were from my friends. If I had hugged Blaise like Harry had hugged me, he would have thought I had fallen and hit my head, or that I was under some sort of dark curse that completely changed my personality and manners. We weren't acquainted with intimacy of that sort.

He smiled, and got up, wavering a bit on his feet. "I'll go. Long day tomorrow, what with Hoggsmeade and everything." He turned to look at me over his shoulder and smirked.

I frowned at him. "I'm still angry at you about that. Don't push your luck."

Blaise chuckled and staggered out of the brick wall, heading to his room. I shook my head, got up and headed to my own room, ignoring the desire to check on Harry.

That would only make things worse.

* * *

I barely slept that night.

I couldn't help it. Every time I attempted to close my eyes, I was back in Harry's arms, twirling around the room, but this time less sloppily and more gracefully.

In the dream, I swayed in his arms, and looked up at the man, only to be graced with his sloppy grin and more graceful movements. We danced for what seemed like hours in my dream, and my skin burned from the contact. It was relentless. I decided after the tenth time of trying to avoid my first dream about Harry Potter to finally give in. The dance charred itself into my mind.

I woke up the next morning, after what seemed like five minutes of sleep, and trudged to the bathroom for a shower in a daze. The extra hot water woke me up, however, and I felt incredibly well rested as I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. With my hair dripping still, I opened the door and began to make the trip back to my room next door, but was interrupted by the sight of Harry coming out of his room.

"Hey, Pans," He muttered sleepily as he passed me only clad in a silly looking pair of scarlet red pajama bottoms with golden snitches on them.

I made an attempt to keep my eyes off of his muscular, hairless chest and the dark trail that abruptly cut off at his pajama pants, but failed. I could feel the heat of a blush come up from my neck and past my ears as I snapped my eyes to his face and found his green eyes on me. I nodded, and laughed awkwardly as I raced back to my room, only to catch him smirk at me before he closed the door.

I found it was only safe to breath after I could hear the shower water running. I closed my door, leaned my back against it and took in deep breaths as an attempt to slow the silly race of my heart. There was no denying Harry Potter was very…appealing while shirtless. The slow retreat of the blush from my neck was proof enough.

I dressed in a hurry; having laid my outfit for the day out last night while trying to avoid the dreams of the man I now knew was in the shower…surrounded by hot, steaming wat-

_Bloody hell._

My knees buckled under the racy and completely inappropriate images running through my mind, and I fell over mid-putting on my jeans. Scowling, I stood, slipped on the jeans and laced my boots. I dried my hair with a wave of my wand, making sure it fell in my normal, wavy style and raced out of the common room before Harry could step out of the shower and cause my face to go red again. Once was enough.

When I entered the Great Hall, only a hand full of students were at each table, the first and second years were most likely sleeping in due to the fact that they weren't old enough to go to Hoggsmeade, and I spotted Blaise and Melissa sitting next to each other at the High table, speaking animatedly about their plans for the day. I smiled at both of them, took my seat next to Blaise and grabbed a scone, not bothering to speak to Melissa, who knew I wasn't much of a morning person.

"So, have fun with Potter last night after I left, did you?" Blaise asked nonchalantly, as if he was speaking of the weather.

I nearly spit out my pumpkin juice, but ended up coughing loud, painful coughs instead. "I'm sorry, _what_?" I sputtered, ignoring the curious looks I received from the other professors and a few students at my outburst.

Blaise laughed while Melissa giggled at his side. I frowned at the two, deciding it was far too early to glare at anyone, and put my goblet of juice down. "What?" I demanded as Blaise's expression widened and Melissa began to giggle even more.

Melissa looked around her, as if she was afraid of eavesdroppers, and then leaned across Blaise to whisper, "Blaise said he got Harry drunk last night to make it easier for you to, well, you know." She ended in a fit of giggles again.

I decided it was just the right time of the morning to glare, when I looked up at Blaise and his smirk. "You didn't." I ground out.

He looked away from me and nodded, simply taking a bite of his toast as if this was a normal circumstance. Melissa couldn't hold in her laughter anymore as she nudged Blaise as if to egg him on. "Come on, Zabini, tell her the other thing."

I blanched. "There's more?" I whispered heatedly, gripping the arm of my chair and pretending it was Blaise's neck.

Blaise finally turned to me, smirk on. "I also happened to tell him, while being drunk, that you thought he was cute."

Ignoring Melissa's giggles and Blaise's smirk, I turned to my plate, put my head in my hands and groaned. If I couldn't take out my anger with Blaise by choking him, I'd internalize it, and things would become worse. It was like I was back as a student at Hogwarts. "You didn't." I repeated, this time grumbling.

I could hear Blaise scoff. "Of course I did. _Someone_ needed to tell the boy, I mean, he's too thick to pick it up from the way you look at him." He said.

I shook my head, not really sure what he meant by that, squeezed my eyes closed and began to wonder if it was possible to merely disappear out of embarrassment. "You've hit an all time low here, Blaise."

"I think it was a good idea. Merlin knows you never would have done it." It was Melissa's turn to pipe in.

I scowled down at my plate, eyes still closed, and thought that maybe if I didn't open them ever again, it would be like they were telling some type of horrible joke. "I need new friends." I said, shaking my head again.

"New friends? Already?" It was Harry.

I snapped my head up, just as he took his seat next to me, hair slightly damp still, but dressed in muggle clothes. _It'd be easier if you weren't so bloody attractive_.

I put my head in my hands again at that thought. Being attracted to Harry was not what I needed at that moment. "Nothing." I mumbled.

Harry must have sent Blaise a look, because I heard Blaise chuckle darkly before saying, "Don't ask me, mate. She's off her rocker."

Finally opening my eyes but keeping my head in my hands, not wanting to face the man beside me, I saw Harry shrug out of my peripheral and give a sloppy grin to Melissa. "Hey, Melly." The woman giggled again. I needed to talk to her about that.

I couldn't help but scowl. _Melly?_ Since when does everyone, including me, have a nickname? I knew I hadn't been dreaming when Harry had called me '_Pans_' before closing the bathroom door. Or maybe I had been too preoccupied with the fact that he was half naked and his pectoral muscles were visible to really be coherently thinking…

I scowled again, lifting my head finally, and slumped back into my seat. Harry grabbed his fork and began to eat his eggs. His plate was completely full, but I knew he'd finish it all. The man ate more than my brother, whom I liked to refer to as the human vanishing cabinet. Henry could eat the Hogwarts kitchens empty. He stopped mid waffle and sent a grin my way. He had caught me staring again, this time at his clothed arms.

I couldn't help but turn to avoid him seeing the blush that hit my cheeks. _I hate you, Harry Potter_. I frowned as I realized I was acting like a chummy schoolgirl. I needed to remember that I was, in fact, not said chummy schoolgirl, and was 25. Therefore, I had been an adult for eight years. Therefore, Harry _Bloody _Potter should not make me blush just by giving me an annoyingly sloppy grin.

_Yeah, _annoying_ is what to call it._

My frown deepened. Blaise gave me a curious look as he sipped his steaming tea, which he specifically requested at each meal. I shook my head, gave him a look and stood. I needed time to cool off before I went anywhere with Potter. Unless blushing and speeding heart rates were what I wanted to be preoccupied with all day. I ignored Melissa's questions as I slipped past her and gave Harry an apologetic look before walking out of the great hall and towards the nearest window that would allow air into my lungs.

I didn't make it far into the open, stone courtyard before a tired looking Henry, clad in muggle clothes and an expensive looking coat, came running after me. As he caught his breath, I watched as his exhales became visible in the chilly, fall air. "Hey, Pans, can we talk?" He asked, sitting down at a stone bench under the large oak tree that hung in the open space, with his hands in the pocket of his coat, grasping for warmth.

I nodded warily, but sat down on the other side of the bench, not too close to my younger brother. "Should I be worried about what you're going to say, Henry?"

My brother smirked and shook his head, exhaling another cloud of breath. "I just want to let you know that if this Harry Potter character plans to make any moves on my sister, he'll have to go through me!" He said, puffing his chest out in a very uncharacteristic macho stance.

I widened my eyes in shock and looked at the protective, ridiculous smirk on my 17-year-old brother's face. This day was turning into a nightmare. "There will be no 'making' of any 'moves' with anyone, Henry." I said, shaking my head at him as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Good." He said, looking around us before hugging me tightly.

I pushed him off, huffing in annoyance. "Will you stop doing that?" I demanded. "I will take points from Slytherin for harassing a professor!"

Henry laughed and got up gracefully, dusting off his muggle jeans. "You wouldn't. You're too loyal to your former house." He stuck his tongue out at me before sending a wave my way and walking back to the castle.

I watched after him, shaking my head in disbelief at his utter lack of concern for any type of manners. It was as if we had been raised by two completely different families. The boy was out of control.

I sat on the bench for a while, taking deep breaths and letting the chilly air clear my crowded mind. Too much had been happening. I had barely had time to think it all through.

My current problems could be separated into three different categories, all having to do with different men in my life as of the moment:

1. Draco. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since the school term had begun, part of me was ok with that. A very small, nearly absent part. A very slight sliver of my mind. The rest of my body and brain were consumed with the need to be near him, smell his cologne, play with his perfect hair, and take in the mere perfection of his being. It was every thought. I couldn't shake the pain that erupted in my chest and throughout my body at the idea of him and Ginny. True, I had come to terms with her existence, but my mind still functioned off the imagined future I had with him. Our blonde children running around the Malfoy manor.

I had begun to master the art of putting my mind to use for other things, while still having the thought of Draco somewhere in the back, lurking and waiting to be brought up again. I was able to work on my lesson plans, teach my classes and socialize with my friends without seemingly obviously thinking of Draco. It had become easy to fool them into believing I was moving on. When the truth was, I was only growing more impatient to see him. I needed him in a way I needed air, and my lungs were beginning to deflate.

Which brought me to my second problem:

2. Blaise. He had stopped hounding me about Draco and my 'weird obsession' as he put it, but I would catch him every so often looking at me as though I was going to break. And maybe I was. Maybe being away from Draco this long had begun to work so deeply on my heart and mind that my simple, glass shield from reality was beginning to break. Blaise was getting better at reading me, and the more I thought I could hide my emptiness from Harry and the others, the more Blaise became aware of it. I was an open book to him.

The stress of being able to hide these feelings and thoughts of Draco were too much. I knew that, eventually, I would need to release them, or suffer the break that was inevitable. Draco was a wedge in the crack of my sanity. If anyone applied that unavoidable slam of the hammer, things would crumble around me. I couldn't help but shiver from the possibilities of the break. Would I lose my mind? Would I end up in the insane asylum of St. Mungos?

Would I be locked up because I couldn't handle the loss of the only man I had ever loved?

They locked others up for much simpler things. I was in danger.

My third, and largest, problem was Harry.

He had been the warm, necessary light in my life the couple of months I had been at Hogwarts. And, although I hadn't planned on being attached to anyone, especially him, I knew that's what I was: simply attached.

I needed Harry in a way that scared me. Not because I was attracted to him, which I couldn't deny that I was anymore, but because he was the one person that made me feel full. Not my stomach, but my insides.

I struggled to understand what that meant. Harry had wedged himself so deeply into my world, that I pained to think of a moment in which he would no longer exist in it. Thinking of letting Harry go made me hurt. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I needed Harry. Maybe not as much as I knew I needed Draco, and maybe not the same way, but I knew that Harry was a part of me now. Like my fingers or my toes were.

Maybe without him, I wouldn't be able to grasp, or walk.

When he was around, I felt comfortable, in a way that made me ok for once. In a way I had felt when Draco was around. No, he wasn't my Draco. He never would be. But, at the moment, he was a welcome substitute. He was a filler, of sorts, until Draco was with me again. And that was ok.

I felt selfish. My need for both Harry and Draco was unfair. Because I knew, that if the opportunity ever came, I would only be able to have one. If I wanted Draco forever, I wouldn't be able to have Harry too. It just didn't work that way. And it was unfair, my selfishness knew no bounds.

I wanted both of them. Forever.

I couldn't understand why that was such a hard concept.

But it was, and eventually, I would have to make a choice. Because neither of the men, I liked to think of them as _my_ men, would allow me the other.

My chest hurt again, but I left my hands to my side, and just let it hurt for once. I had realized that all the clutching of my left hand in the world wouldn't make the pain stop. I needed to learn how to live with it. The ache spread throughout my body, causing my head to throb, but I knew it was only an imaginary pain, so I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and let my body crumble in on itself. I would get through this, because if I wanted to survive the rest of the year without breaking down, I would have to learn how to control this emotional spiral off the deep end. I would not break.

It felt like hours passed before Harry found me.

With a warm, gloved hand on my back, he picked me up out of the depth of my shattered mind, and gave me a warm smile. He couldn't hide the concern and sadness in his eyes, though. "Hey," was all he said.

I smiled back at him. "Hey," I said, breathless from the disappearing pain.

He looked at me, as if examining me for injuries, before offering me a hand to help me off of the bench. I took it, and marveled in the instant warmth he gave me from just the one connection to him. "It's cold out here, want to head to Hoggsmeade now?"

I nodded and walked beside him as we headed around to the front of the castle to the trail down to the small town.

Groups of students walked in front and behind us, chatting loudly about classes and other things, but we remained silent on our way. I stared ahead, wondering what I looked like while I let the pain take over. What did Harry think of me now that he had seen me at my lowest?

I glanced up at him beside me and couldn't help but take in the sadness etched in his furrowed brow. He walked with his eyes on the dirt path in front of us, deep in thought. For a moment, while staring at him, I wished I could hear his thoughts. Was he regretting going with me? Did he think I was pathetic?

Of course he did. I was pining after this impossible man, who obviously had no desire to be with me. I was the definition of pathetic. Why would he go with me now?

At that thought, I stopped walking, and stared at his back as he continued, unaware of my abrupt halt. It took him a couple of strides to realize I wasn't beside him anymore, before he turned around and looked at me, confused. "What's wrong?" he asked, walking back up to me and putting a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look into his bright eyes.

I shook my head, unable to get out the jarring thought _you're pathetic_. "Please tell me the truth, ok? I'm not so fond of liars." That was a lie, however, because I was definitely a very talented liar. And, I was not only lying to Harry, but myself.

He nodded with wide eyes and a bit of confusion as he looked at me. I took a deep breath and then looked him in the eye. "Am I pathetic?" I asked, intending to sound curious, but really, it came out a little too much like a whisper.

Harry's brow furrowed at my question and he stepped impossibly closer to me, taking my hands in his. I was warm all over from the contact. His eyes bored into mine. "Pansy Parkinson, you are anything but." He said. His tone was incredibly sincere.

I couldn't help but close my eyes at his truth. Because Harry Potter was not a liar. He wasn't anything like me. He was good. "Ok," was all I could manage.

Harry tugged one of my hands in his and we began our walk down the trail to Hoggsmeade again.

My lies made the guilt rise up in my throat. I was glad the air outside was so cold from the season, it forced me to breath deep, concentrated breaths. I was able to stomach my overwhelming feelings.

* * *

The first place we ended up was The Three broomsticks. Harry headed to the bar to order drinks while I found us a big, old, wooden booth to sit in. I settled in my seat, removed my coat and looked at my surroundings.

From what I could see, we were only surrounded by students and muggles. None of our fellow professors had made their way into the tavern yet. I watched a pair of students I had in class bicker about some type of gossip going around the castle. They obviously didn't realize two of their own professors were within hearing distance. I supposed Harry and I looked different out of our professor 'garb'.

"Here we go!" he said cheerfully, as he placed two steaming cups of butter beer down on the table between us.

I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose at the distasteful, foamy drink. Harry looked up from his mug, already having drained nearly half of it, and cocked his head to the side. "Something wrong?" He asked, suddenly concerned.

I looked up and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I should have told you before you got it. I'm not a fan of butter beer…" I trailed off, shrugging and feeling horrible.

Harry laughed awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "No problem at all! What do you want?" He asked, getting up to go get me a new drink.

I looked down for a minute, trying to remember my replacement drink at the tavern from school and smiled. "Pomegranate tea, if they still have it." I said. "I'll pay." I made to grab for my coin bag full of money I had in my pocket, but Harry pushed my hand away.

"There's no possible way I'm letting you pay for your own drink, Pansy." He said, walking backwards towards the bar, giving me his sloppy grin, before turning around and putting in the order.

I shook my head at his profile and smiled down at my hands. I couldn't imagine Draco getting me butter beer. Then again, Draco would never initiate a hug, or call me 'Pans' either. The differences between the two men I was associated with were glaring. It was almost strange.

I watched Harry give a charming smile to Madam Rosemerta as she filled a large teacup with boiling hot water and handed him the pink tea bag with the large pomegranate printed on it. I smiled, remembering the smell and taste of the best pomegranate tea you could find, right here in this small little town. I had never been a butter beer type of person, ever since I had tasted it for the first time my third year. Once I had found out they had pomegranate tea, though, I had never gotten anything else. Madam Rosemerta should have told Harry that the moment she saw us enter together. I had been here so many times during school. She had known my order before I ever stepped foot near the counter.

Harry made his way back to our table, walking extra slowly just to make sure the hot water didn't spill over and burn his hand. He sat the cup down carefully in front of me and then took his seat across the booth and finished his first butter beer, and then began to sip on the one I had abandoned. I thanked him again, and apologized for making him go to the trouble of buying me a second drink, but he waved it off with a hand and a sloppy grin. I couldn't help but smile at the man with the messy hair, but couldn't escape the thought that he was either being too nice, or sympathetic. I didn't want him feeling sorry for me, or the fact that I wasn't all together mentally or emotionally.

"I'm sorry about the state you found me in earlier," I said as I dipped my tea bag in with a bobbing of my wand. The pink color of the tea leaves spread through the water as I watched Harry look up at me and frown.

"You're ok, aren't you?" he asked, reaching a hand across the table and gripping the hand that wasn't holding my wand.

It was a natural reflex of mine to flinch from public physical contact. Draco made sure we were never seen as anything else than friends for both of our reputations. A look of hurt and confusion flashed across Harry's face as he looked away from me and took a sip of his butter beer. I sighed. Harry wasn't Draco. He didn't see the need to avoid people questioning our relationship with each other. Because, to him at least, the gesture he attempted had been a friendly one. It was normal for him.

Harry wasn't Draco.

I put my wand in my pocket, pushed aside my teacup and put my hands, clasping to each other, on top of the table. How could I describe my trained ability to not be anything but friends to men? To _Draco_? I had never been anything else to…well, anyone else. Wasn't this how it went? We were surrounded by students and colleagues, weren't we supposed to hide? To pretend?

Harry couldn't look at me now, a flush of embarrassment at my pulling away had stained his cheeks. He was convinced I had rejected him.

I rubbed my hands together in thought. I didn't know how to handle these types of situations. It had always been me on the side Harry was on. I was always the one receiving the rejection to hold hands or hug, etc. The moment became incredibly awkward. I felt the need to apologize.

"Harry," I began, desperately trying to convince him to look at me. It worked. His bright green eyes turned to me as he sat his mug down and swallowed. "I-I'm not sure how to do this, I'm sorry," I started, but was abruptly cut off as Harry let out a choked laugh.

"It's ok," he said, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. "You don't feel that way, and I should respect that."

I shook my head, panicking. "No, Harry, please. Don't-"

"Don't what, Pansy?" he asked, now angry. I looked around, making sure no one was listening to our conversation. "Don't care when I find you huddled in corners clutching your chest in pain? Don't care that that _git_ Malfoy left you like this?" he nearly shouted, gesturing to me to make his point.

I flinched. I hadn't expected his anger, but I deserved it. I hadn't been fair to Harry. I swallowed down the guilt, clutching my teacup for stability. "I'm sorry." Was all I could say as I let him be angry at me. I deserved his shouting and so much more.

He softened at my apology and shook his head. "No, Pansy, please don't be like that. I'm not trying to hurt you." He said. "I just want you to stop feeling the need to _hurt_ over him."

I nodded and looked down. I knew all this. Blaise had repeated it to me over and over. That didn't mean any of the pain went away. I still hurt. Impossibly so. I always would. "I know."

Harry sighed, ran a hand through his hair again and looked around, defeated. "Now I've ruined this whole day."

I looked up at him, startled. "No!" I said, a little too loudly. "No, of course you haven't." I said a little quieter this time.

He smiled weakly at me and stood, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. "Where to next, Miss Parkinson?" His grin had returned.

I made a point to shake off our conversation from a moment ago and put a finger to my lip in thought. "Honey dukes?" I asked, smiling.

Harry nodded and held out an arm to me. His grin widened when I accepted it after putting on my coat. He let me go immediately, though, obviously having gotten the fact that physical contact was a hard point for me. I couldn't help but feel horrible for not being able to hold his hand when I wanted to, honestly. It just wasn't an impulse I was used to acting on.

We walked to Honey dukes, stopping to look into the windows of a near by quidditch supply store, before opening the door with the sound of a bell. The shop, as always, was full of students, running around excitedly, rushing to find their favorite candies. I stood on the tips of my toes to find the sugar quills as I always did, my favorite Honey dukes item. Once I had picked up two, Harry grabbed them from me and added them to his chocolate frogs and wands. I looked at him, confused as to why he had taken the candy from me, but frowned immediately when he pulled out his money pouch.

"I'm not letting you pay for those, Potter." I said, crossing my arms stubbornly.

He gave a throaty laugh as he looked at me, but set them down on the counter anyway and made to pay them. "Watch me." He said, sending me a mischievous smirk.

I nearly growled and raced him to set out the money for both of us, but again, he beat me to it. I wasn't putting up a farce with my anger of him paying. I didn't like being man-handled. "Seriously, Harry. You're not my dad, let me buy my own things." I said, instantly regretting the fact that I had brought up my father. I knew parents would be a sore subject for us both.

He didn't flinch, however, just shrugged and smirked as he handed me the bag with our candy in it. I made a point to frown at him.

We headed to Zonkos next, Harry said he was in need of some prank materials for his Christmas holiday at he Weasley's. I was surprised to learn that he spent his holidays with the Weasley family. I had known he was friends with Ron Weasley during school, but his entire family?

He must have seen the surprised expression on my face as he turned from the shelf full of slime quills and black eye telescopes to me. "Ron's family just kind of accepted me into their home during school. They're the only family I've ever known." He said with a shrug, turning back to the prank objects.

I nodded absently, thinking of a friend I could say I was nearly family with, but couldn't think of a name. My lack of close friends caused me to frown. I could probably count them on only one hand. We all seemed to have trust issues. The wonder of being a pure blooded Slytherin.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you something, by the way." Harry said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I raised my eyebrows in question, picking up a rubber rat, that could have passed for a real one, by the tail. "I was wondering if you had plans for the Christmas holidays." Harry said, walking along the aisles ahead of me.

I couldn't help but watch his back as he walked, picking up various things and examining them with a concentrated look. I shook my head, curious as to where he was going with this. "My family has a dinner on Christmas day, but that's about it." I said, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why?"

He turned to me with a smile, one far too wide to be fake. "I'm officially inviting you to your first Weasley Christmas." He said with a laugh and a look off at the items on the shelves that looked like he was remembering something.

_Wait…what?_ "Umm, I'm sorry?" I asked, confused.

He looked up at me, furrowing his brow. "I'm…inviting you to the Burrow for Christmas…?" he said, seemingly confused also.

I shook my head at him, getting frustrated. "Even if I knew what the 'Burrow' was, I wouldn't know why in the _Merlin's name_ you would invite _me_ there." I said, putting my hands on my hips.

Harry was still confused. "The Burrow is what the Weasley's call their house…"

I nodded, as if to a child. "Ok, good. Now why do you want me to go there?" I asked slowly.

He looked at me as if I had said I was Medusa. "I think everyone deserves to experience what a real family is like on Christmas." He said, shrugging and looking down. "Before the Weasleys, I never knew what it was like to have a real family."

I nodded, understanding his reasoning, but still perplexed as to why he would think that _I_ would be wanted there, of all places. "It's a nice thought, Harry, truly. But, considering my past with your friends, I think I'll sit this one out."

Harry shook his head, exasperated. "They don't hold grudges, I promise!" he was begging now.

I couldn't deny him. "Can I think about it? I mean, it's almost Halloween. We're not even close to Christmas." I smirked at him.

He shrugged. "I didn't want you to have other plans. And I already sent an owl to Molly."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Can I think about it?"

He smiled widely and nodded. "Of course."

He looked at me as if my going to the Weasley's for Christmas was the only thing he had ever wanted.

And, who was I to refuse a man his Christmas wish?


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing!_

_Author's note:_ So, I realize I deserve to be hated for waiting so long to update, but I have reasons! College is about to start up again, and I have been moving like crazy! So, I apologize for the delay in update, and also for the length(or lack thereof) of this chapter. I'm seriously having writer's block.

Also, I miss Draco just as much as you guys do, I promise he'll be back soon. We all love our snarky blonde. 3

Enjoy!

* * *

"Pansy,"

I looked up from Jay Gatsby and the muggle 1920's at Harry's nervous murmur of my name, and looked over the wizard's chessboard before deciding my next move.

"Bishop to D3," I said, watching as my bishop surrounded Harry's piece and then violently demolished it. "Checkmate." I looked up at Harry and smiled.

His eyes were narrowed as he watched me look back down to my novel that Blaise had been so kind to get for me somehow, and sighed loudly for what seemed to be the twentieth time in the last five minutes. We laid in front of the fireplace of our common room, me sprawled out and laying on my side with _The Great Gatsby_ in my hands, and Harry squirming to find a comfortable position with his back against the large sofa. Our combined wizard's chess sets sat between us.

"I just don't understand how you can barely pay attention to the game and still beat me." He sounded entirely defeated.

Blaise let out a laugh from his position in one of the chairs behind me, reading _Grapes of wrath_ with an amused expression. "She was blessed with the affinity for chess, mate. Just don't question it and you'll be fine."

I couldn't contain my laugh as I looked over at Harry's crestfallen expression. "Don't worry, you'll definitely beat me next time." I gave him a reassuring hand on the shoulder.

He ignored my comfort and looked past me to Blaise. "How many times is this now?"

Blaise didn't look up from his novel, but still chuckled out the number "12".

Harry finally looked at me and put his head in his hands. "I just don't understand." He sighed loudly, running both hands through his hair. "I never win. Never." He muttered, I assumed more to himself than to the two Slytherins in the room.

"You're getting better!" I defended him against himself, trying to sound as reassuring as I could manage; apparently I wasn't a very good actress.

He gave out a throaty laugh and gave me a look that clearly said _come off it_. "Don't lie to me, Pansy," He warned. His less than threatening tone emitted a smirk from me. He began to smile my way, but then slowly a look of utter horror and indignation swept across his face. "_You've been going easy on me, haven't you?_" He gasped.

My face fell. Oops. Was it that obvious? "Harry-" I began, but was cut off by his angry tirade.

"I am complete _rubbish_ at Wizard's chess, aren't I?" He ran a frustrated hand over his face and then gave me a contagious grin.

And then something miraculous happened.

The room was so warm. It felt like the fire was no longer in the fireplace itself, but in the _air_. Harry's smile began to falter, as if he could sense the change in atmosphere too. We sat, staring at each other. I itched to move closer to him, to seek out his potential escape from the charring heat, but stayed still.

Minutes, hours, days, life times could have passed. I wasn't really sure I cared. The heat was worth the sizzle it caused in the air.

Harry's eyes were brighter than ever as they stole my mind and played quidditch with its senses. They were pools of soft, dewy grass, or the freshest, sharply cut emeralds. I couldn't make out which one, but I was entranced either way. How was it possible to have eyes that were able to _do_ that?

I was suddenly aware of a large, crashing thumping in my ears. It sang through my blood, and made my face flush. My heart hammered with such a cacophonous sound, I feared for a moment that it would betray me to Harry, or worse Blaise. _Blaise._

I looked up at Blaise as he glanced between us with a dark eyebrow raised. He cleared his throat, which caused Harry to flush brilliantly and look around the room nervously. "I'm so _tired_," He said, standing with a staged yawn after a few seconds of mine and Harry's twin flushes.

"It's five in the afternoon, Blaise." I deadpanned after casting a _tempus_ charm with my wand seconds before.

"I had a long day."

"At least let me walk you to your room." I begged, needing to get away from the fire and Harry. Whatever that was did not need to happen for any longer.

* * *

"What was _that_?" Blaise asked as we took a flight of stairs up from the dungeons.

I shook my head, mostly to clear the fog that had settled there, an after effect of…what was that exactly? There wasn't exactly a book I could read to find the term I needed. Confusion was my best bet. "Nothing," I muttered in an attempt to ignore the fact that Blaise had laid witness to the _moment_.

Blaise shook with laughter as we rounded a corner of the corridor. "You're full of it. I could just _feel_ the sexual tension. You could cut it with a knife and serve it at a feast, _Parkinson_."

I scowled at him and pushed him slightly to the side, mostly to exert my pent up frustration. Not sexual in the slightest. Not at all. Right.

"We're not talking about Harry, _Zabini_." I warned.

"Oh, please. He's all I want to talk about." He said, sighing dreamily. I continued to scowl at the man beside me. "The man is a walking dirty dream, if you ask me." He said matter of factly.

I pushed him again and ignored my desire to agree with him. Blaise hadn't even seen him shirtless yet. "You're a pig, you know that?" I gave him a sidelong glance, as he seemed to be thinking about Harry in all sorts of dirty manners again. "_Stop_," I begged shaking my head and grimacing.

Blaise raised his eyebrows in a way that made me feel as though he could read my body language and could tell I was struggling. "You just want all the dirty things about Potter to yourse-"

I clamped a hand over his mouth and pushed him to the wall. His eyes widened suddenly, but crinkled as he took in my flushed face and heavy breathing. I let my hand off his mouth, but kept him pinned to the wall. "Why, Pansy, you naughty, little girl." He said in mock surprise. I glared at him instantly. "You need to admit to yourself that you're attracted to him," He said, leaning forward. "And the fact that you two had a _moment_ back in that common room. You were completely eye-shagging him!"

Still glaring at him, I let him go and continued our path down the corridor. Blaise was going to call attention to us, especially on a Hoggsmeade day when students were free to roam the castle without the hindrance of classes. I had no interest in my students over hearing Blaise's claim of my attraction to Harry.

There was _no_ attraction there.

None.

So maybe he's good looking, but I would never be able to have any semblance of a relationship with him. He would have to know that that type of thing could never happen between us. Ever.

Not only because of the fact that as much as I didn't want to admit it, I still loved Draco, but he was Harry Potter, and he was meant to be with some decent girl with bright eyes and shiny morals. I did not fit the mold.

As Blaise caught up to me, he grabbed my elbow and stopped my brisk escape. I scowled at him as his smirking face came into view. "Pansy, it's okay to want to rip that bloody blazer off of him and do him into the carpet," Blaise said, as my eyes slowly came to rival an owl's. "Half the wizarding population is right there with you."

I couldn't hold in the gasp that escaped at his insinuation. "_Blaise,_" I choked out, my body felt like it was on fire, and I was sure my blush resembled a Gryffindor banner at that point. "T-there is nothing g-going on with me and Potter. Not l-like that!" I stuttered out lamely. There was no way that my poor excuse for a defense had any effect on Blaise.

He began to laugh, doubled over with his hands on his knees. He was also incredibly loud. I scowled at his bowed head and checked the corridor for any passing students, and breathed a relieved sigh to see it completely deserted. "Seriously, you should see yourself right now!" He gasped out, still doubled over.

I couldn't contain my deep scowl as I turned the way we had come and began to walk off. "You can walk yourself back from here," I said over my shoulder, making sure to add a glare for good measure.

Blaise was wrong.

Or, at least, I attempted to convince myself he was. I was still under that pull of Draco, still needed desperately to see him. But, I suppose now, the undeniable attraction to Harry was blatantly obvious.

I sighed as I took the stairs down to the dungeons just as I ran straight into Harry's chest. "Oomph," I released as my face collided smartly with him, causing me to fall on a step below. "Hey, watch where you're-" I began, but abruptly stopped when I found Harry's green eyes wide and looking at me.

My flush could have burned my clothing off.

I averted my gaze to a nearby wall as I got up and straightened my muggle clothing. I hadn't changed since we got back from Hoggsmeade.

Harry chuckled awkwardly, and straightened his glasses on his nose. "Err, sorry, there, Pans."

I couldn't help but flinch at his nickname. He had only called me it once before, when he was rather…well, half naked. Shaking my head wouldn't get the image of him in the morning out of my head, so I ended up sputtering out a sloppy 'err, no problem' and made an attempt to walk past him, but he caught my elbow before I could descend more than two steps.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah."

I hadn't turned to look at him yet, afraid of a repeat of whatever it was that had happened back in our common room. Harry sighed and dropped my elbow. The rustle of his clothing told me he was running a frustrated hand through his hair. _I shouldn't know that, _I thought.

"Want to, err, go take a walk?" he asked.

I turned a fraction to take a small glance at him, and made sure to look anywhere but his eyes, which had me land on his lips.

Which caused me to gracefully stumble off the steps again and land on the cold, stone floor on my hands and knees.

Harry rushed to help me up, and blanched at the open cut that was now bleeding profusely on my left knee. I cursed under my breath as I righted myself and took in the damage. But gasped, as I instantly felt weightless.

Because all of the sudden, I was collected in Harry's arms as he carried me back to our common room.

I struggled in his arms, and begged him to put me down, or take me anywhere but there. Back to the room full of fire. With a small chuckle, Harry obliged and quickly walked me up back up the stairs to the nearest outside courtyard.

Once he put me down on a cool stone bench, he knelt before my ripped at the knee jeans and examined the cut with warm, expert fingers. I watched him warily, not quite sure what he was intending to do with the wound on my knee.

He leaned in close, and brought his wand to my leg, mumbling healing spells under his breath. My throat constricted at his focused expression. His green eyes seemed determined to take care of the problem.

I couldn't contain the sigh that escaped me as I felt the cooling effect of the healing spell settle through my leg. The wound closed up and cleaned itself right before my eyes. I looked from it to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Thank you." I said, when he looked up at me.

His responding smile made my stomach clench. "No problem. Now how about that walk?"

I hesitated, only because two professors walking around the grounds together would not seem very innocent to a students prying eyes, but with one look at his sloppy grin, I caved and stood. My knee ached, but I didn't let him know that as we headed down the hill from the courtyard to the Great Lake. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear with a thumb and took a slow sidelong glance at the man by my side.

In the cool, autumn air, it was just after sun set, and the sky was splashed with an easel of colors, but I couldn't look away from Harry as he rambled on about something I wasn't paying attention to. I merely watched his lips as they moved. He had quite nice lips. They were pink and thin and-

_Ow._

I found myself face down in the dirt after tripping over a tree root.

Once again, Harry rushed to help me back up, but this time his face was contorted with worry as he set me back on my feet.

"I never noticed how clumsy you are," he stated, looking my legs over for any more injuries.

The responding flush burned my skin as I turned my body around to face the lake. And suddenly I was laughing horribly awkwardly in an attempt to avoid Harry noticing the real reason I had tripped was because I had been staring at his-

"Of course, you wouldn't be falling everywhere if you weren't so busy ogling me."

My surprised expression must have been quite the sight, because Harry let out a loud laugh at my response. I narrowed my eyes, but couldn't stop the insistent blush. "I was _not_ ogling you, Potter." I spat defensively.

Harry actually smirked. "Then the blush is because it's so _hot_ out here and the sudden on come of lack of grace is because, what, mini earth quakes?"

I stared at him incredulously. Who was this man? "How did you-?"

"I've spent years being the poster boy for the ministry, Pansy. I think I can tell when a girl fancies me."

I sputtered out a semblance of a laugh in order to convince…who? Him? Me? "I am far from _fancying_ you, Potter." _Merde_.

He gave me a knowing look, but averted his gaze back out to the Great lake with a smirk on his face. This boy was truly spending far too much time with me. Him smirking was too much to handle. I shook my head and looked out at the lake too, entranced by the colors thrown across its rippling surface.

And then, suddenly, I wanted to move away from the sunset and the beautiful lake. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Because, not only had this been where I had watched plenty of my friends die during the war, but where Draco and I had first kissed.

The ache came back.

It was nearly crippling, forcing me to sit on a nearby boulder for support. I could feel the warm spring air hitting my skin all of those years ago, and could smell the flowers and hear the splashing of the water. It was too much.

The ache lessened after a few deep breaths and a calming, cool autumn breeze that rustled my hair into my eyes. With a flick of my thumb, my hair was returned to its place behind my ears, and I was able to stand and focus on Harry's back facing me. He was taking deep breaths as he looked out over the water.

I hesitated a moment before stepping up next to him and staring at the dark water. "Can we go somewhere else?" My voice was surprisingly steady.

Harry took a breath before giving me a nod and turning on his heel to the left of us and going out onto a large, grass hill. He walked up the steep ground until he got to a high point and sat.

I stood in front of him, trying to catch his eyes to vouch his expression, but he kept them trained on his hands that clutched each other on top of his bent knees.

When I sat with my legs crossed, I rubbed my hands nervously at the silence between us. I held back the urge to place a hand on his shoulder and force him to look at me, and just let him work out whatever he wanted to say.

After at least ten minutes, he finally looked up at the view of the lake we still had and sighed. I expected him to be angry with me, or Draco, but he simply seemed defeated. His shoulders sagged as he licked his lips in preparation for whatever he was going to say.

"What was it this time?"

I desperately wanted to see his eyes. "Our first kiss," I said, picking up a piece of grass and twisting it between my fingers. "We were fourteen."

He nodded, eyes still on the lake, and laid back with his hands resting behind his head. He stared at the sky, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Is it always going to be like this?" He asked.

I started at the question, wanting more than anything to get up and avoid answering. But this was Harry. I wasn't sure what that exactly meant, but I knew if I wasn't honest with him, or at least attempted to make him understand, I'd never be ok with myself, so I took my time to think.

It was a simple question, really, but it was loaded. Would I always look at things and remember anything I could about Draco?

Yes.

Would it always hurt?

Possibly.

But, I knew Harry wasn't asking about those things. He wanted to know whether or not I would always love Draco.

That was the prize question, I suppose.

One everyone wanted answered. Especially me. I knew the answer, but I wasn't sure how many people would want to know the truth. Harry, for certain, would want it no matter how much it hurt him. I didn't want to cause him pain if I could avoid it.

The truth was far too painful to contemplate at a moment such as this, so I went for vague.

"I don't know."

And, in many ways, I didn't.

It seemed to be enough for him, though, as he nodded again and kept looking at the now emerging stars.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked after another ten minutes of silence.

I nodded, twirling the piece of grass absently.

"What does it feel like?"

My grass twirling stopped as I took in what he had asked.

"You want me to _describe _it?"

He nodded, finally looking at me, but I couldn't look at his green eyes.

"It's like…" I paused, looking around for some type of comparison. The truth was, I had never experienced anything similar before. There weren't any similes or metaphors I could use to do the pain justice. "It's like this…gaping hole." I said, using both of my hands to make a hole with my fingers. I stared down at them. "And all of the sudden, it just…takes, and takes everything." I said, now moving my right hand in a circular motion. "It makes me feel…" There were no words.

After a moment of seemingly lost words, Harry shifted to his side and leaned forward. "Empty?" he suggested quietly.

I looked at him, then, and nodded, sagging with relief.

Harry's expression was unreadable for a moment as he looked back at me, but then he pulled me down so I was laying on my side like he was. He placed one hand on my left wrist and the other pushed my curtain of dark hair behind my ear. His expression was pained as he let the wandering hand linger on my cheek.

"It's funny, you know," he said after he had taken his hand from my face. "You make me feel the exact opposite." He smiled sadly, shaking his head slightly.

I couldn't look at him as I registered the beautiful glint in his now dark eyes. "Please don't say things like that."

I felt the need to be closer to him, then, so I wrapped one arm around him and the other clung to his shirt as I laid my head on his chest. I forced my eyes shut and just focused on keeping any thoughts of anyone else out. It wasn't a very difficult task as his intoxicating smell overlapped my senses.

With a barely there chuckle, he wrapped both arms around me and held me in position. His entire body wrapped around me easily, and I reveled in the heat he provided.

It was like being burned. But, somehow, it was entirely pleasant.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" He asked, making patterns on my back with large hands.

I nodded into his chest and inhaled another wave of his scent which was somewhere between grass, sweat and soap. It was almost childish, the combination, but entirely Harry. Which was ok. Really.

I couldn't keep thoughts of Draco out, though. The fact that he would never do anything like this in public with me nearly had me sobbing, but I held back.

Because this was different. So different.

Whether different was good or bad, I wasn't sure, but I knew if I let go anytime soon, the cold night air would be clarifying, and clarity was not exactly necessary at that point. So, I clung. And, Harry tucked my head underneath his chin as we held onto each other with everything we had.

And at that point, maybe it wasn't the fact that I loved Harry that kept me there. But, I knew I needed him more than I had ever needed anyone else but Draco. And that was frightening. I didn't let go.

It felt like light years passed when finally Harry let me go with a reluctant sigh and sat up, stretching. "You make a good pillow," He said absently, mid-yawn.

I hit him playfully and gasped. "Is that some sort of _fat_ joke, Potter?"

He laughed and stood, offering me a hand, but then ended up pulling me too far, causing me to crash into his arms, nearly sending us both over into the grass again. When we righted ourselves, the shock of his hot breath on my forehead nearly had my knees buckling.

He looked me in the eyes and said with a serious expression, "You are far from fat, Pansy."

I attempted to laugh off the seriousness of his comment, but ended up gulping from his close proximity. "Right, let's just get back to our…" and suddenly, there it was.

That…whatever it was.

My eyes flickered to his lips, and suddenly I wanted to tackle him to the ground and do incredibly inappropriate things to him.

This thought had me pushing him off of me in a hurry.

Because not only was I a professor at Hogwarts, Harry was also, and whatever I had just imagined, would most likely have us fired. Or worse, caught by students. So, begrudgingly, I pushed myself out of Harry's arms and inhaled gulping breaths of cool air that burned all the way down.

"We should go inside now." I said, avoiding Harry's eyes that now were entirely smoldering.

"Yeah, I guess." His voice was husky and low with raw…whatever that was.

"Ok."

We both began walking then, and stayed silent until we muttered our goodnights to each other and made it to our separate rooms.

* * *

I woke with a start as I heard a loud crash come from the common room outside my door. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up, wrapped a spare blanket from the four-poster around my body and shuffled to the door, still half asleep. After peering out into the now cold room, I found Harry sitting on the floor with a dazed expression on his face.

"'Arry, it's bloody too early to go about running into things and making loud noises." I said, walking up to him and offering him a hand up.

Harry ignored my hand entirely and instead trailed his eyes slowly up my body covered in my sleepwear and a fluffy blanket, and stopped when he met my half tired gaze. His eyes widened then, and he bolted across the room and behind his door without a word.

It was far too early to analyze his strange behavior, so I walked to the bathroom and decided on a shower to bring me into the world of the living.

Once I got dressed and ready for the day, I walked over to Harry's door that led to his room and knocked lightly. "Harry, I'm going down to the Great hall, are you coming?"

Another loud crash came from his room and I could hear several mumbled curses, as he seemed to be righting whatever had happened. "Bloody hell-erm, I'll just-err-see you later," came Harry's mumbled voice after a few seconds and another crash.

Confused, I walked my way to breakfast, taking a seat next to Blaise as usual. We made light conversation and ate slowly as we didn't have anywhere to be, it being Sunday, and relatively eventless. As the students began to dwindle out back into the corridors, a very ruffled Harry with bloodshot eyes and a flushed face burst in and nearly toppled a group of fifth year Hufflepuff girls over as he made his way to the High table.

I made sure to smile at him despite his rather unclean appearance and patted the seat next to me as he came near, but he kept his eyes to the ground and made his way to sit next to Neville Longbottom and Slughorn who were in the middle of a seemingly animated conversation about plants. I frowned, but was momentarily distracted when I heard Blaise chuckling beside me. I turned to him, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Lovers spat, there?" He asked, smirking as he emptied the contents of his goblet.

I held back the urge to glare and shrugged. "He seemed fine last night." I glanced at the boy in question again whose normally messy hair was even more, if possible, messier than usual. Something was off.

As Longbottom and Slughorn got up to leave the hall, Harry too stood with them and walked off trailing behind them speaking loudly. I turned to Blaise and let him know I'd see him later as I took off for Harry with determination.

I came up beside Slughorn and smiled at him sweetly, remembering he was a sucker for pretty faces. "Good morning, Horace, Neville!" I said cheerfully, Harry noticeably froze at the sight of me. I gave him a questioning look, but he looked down at the ground, really anywhere but me.

Slughorn grinned and put a hand on my shoulder, Neville gave me a wary look and smiled nonetheless. "'Morning, my girl, how are you on this glorious day?"

I kept the smile on for the old man as I tried to put aside the fact that Harry was blatantly trying to ignore me. "I am very well, sir, I was actually wondering if I could steal Mr. Potter from you for just a minute?" I asked, putting my hands behind my back and gesturing to Harry with my head.

Harry paled beside a sleepy looking Neville and gave Slughorn a pleading look that clearly said '_no_'. I narrowed my eyes at the brunette, but smiled as Slughorn turned back to me. "Of, course, my dear, I'll see you two later!" He said with a large smile and pulled Neville away to continue their plant conversation.

I turned to Harry then and narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He couldn't look at me.

"Something's wrong and I want to know what."

"You're being funny. Oh, what was that, Neville? Of course I'll help you in the greenhouses! Later, Pansy!"

I let him go even though we both knew Neville hadn't asked for any type of help, and that he was merely trying to avoid the problem. I glared at his back as he shuffled off, running after the two professors and nearly bumping into them both.

He was definitely avoiding telling me something.

I needed to know what.

It continued like that all day. I'd read a book in our common room, and he'd stumble in nervously, but then back out with some excuse and run away. I'd be walking down a corridor with Blaise and he'd turn the other way without a word. It was becoming entirely ridiculous and I was beginning to get angry by the time dinner came around.

I needed to get whatever it was out.

Or I might end up hurting Harry to get it.

So, while Harry sat safely between McGonagall and Anthony, whom Blaise had developed quite the crush on, I devised a plan.

And while he thought I had simply walked out of the hall after eating with Blaise before him, I slipped off and hid behind a pillar outside the large doors and waited for him to exit. He came out around thirteen minutes after I had 'left'. I practically tackled him and dragged him to a nearby empty classroom. He began to whimper as I set locking charms on the door along with a heavy silence charm in case of eavesdroppers.

"Please Pansy, I have work to do for classes tomorrow, we should just got to bed…" He trailed off nervously when I turned to him with a glare.

"Speak." I gritted out, hopping up on a desk and looking at him expectantly.

He glanced at the door hopefully, as if planning his escape and then gulped. "There's nothing to say," he said, watching his own hands wring.

"Dammit, Harry, what the hell is wrong with you?" I nearly growled. "You've been avoiding me all day like I'm some type of muggle plague!"

"Nothing." He looked at the floor.

"You're going to tell me now."

"Tell you what?" He looked at the ceiling.

"What is so bad that it has caused you to avoid me all day?"

"We talked this morning." He looked at his feet.

"And why you're in a constant flushed state."

"I have the flu." He looked at his trousers.

"Liar."

"It's the lighting." He looked at the door again.

"I slipped veritaserum into your wine."

"It's fall and quite chill-what?" He looked at me then and took a step back, as if I was going to suddenly hex him.

I smirked. "It should be kicking in in a couple of minutes."

He shook his head and darted his eyes around the room, plotting escape, so I raised my wand and held it to his throat. "Harry James Potter, you tell me now."

He gave me a desperate look. "Please, it'd be better if you didn't know!"

I frowned. "Tell me."

"It's not all that important, I promise!"

"You tell me right now or so help me, I will hex off your-"

"I dreamt about you last night."

My voice suddenly stopped working as I stared at Harry incredulously. "Uhh, wait-what?" I said smartly.

His flush became even worse if possible and he nodded. "It was pretty, well-erm, graphic."

My eyes widened in realization and I tried to say something but it wouldn't come out. I opened my mouth, but then shut it as I realized I had nothing to say. After a few minutes of awkward squirming from Harry, I regained my ability to speak. "You're-uhh, sure it was me? I mean, there are lots of, erm, brunettes that you know…" I trailed off awkwardly.

Harry finally looked me in the eye. "It was you."

"Oh." I said, nodding for some unknown reason and feeling the familiar heat of a blush coming up my neck. "Right."

A silent moment passed as we both looked anywhere but at each other. "Can I go now? Or are there anymore life ruining secrets you'd like to get out of me?" Harry hissed.

I started, hurt, and shook my head. "Harry, I'm sorry, I was just worried, you were avoiding me and I didn't know why and-"

"I understand, can I go now?"

I nodded and watched him walk out of the classroom before I fell, defeated, against the desk behind me.

It was official.

I was pretty horrible at this whole friend thing.

* * *

French translations!

_Merde-_ shit


	9. Chapter 9

Harry and I didn't speak the next day, or the day after that. He'd ignore me as best he could, or basically tell me to go away. He had good reason, really, and that's what caused the panic.

It had been a normal day of classes, and I was just about to begin a lesson with my sixth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws when I had caught sight of Harry walking past the open door of my classroom. It didn't really make sense why he was in the Charms corridor, he taught in another wing of the castle, so I smiled at him and waved him in, only to have him frown and turn away from me without so much as a word.

He was angry, and I could understand why, but there was a nagging thought in the back of my head that was telling me he was being entirely too selfish.

It began as an itch that was in an odd place in the middle of my chest.

And out of, seemingly, nowhere, I felt a sharp pain in the middle of my chest.

I doubled over in front of the class, clutching the desk behind me for support as my eyes watered and gasped from the smarting pain in my torso. I vaguely registered the voices of a few students and hands on my shoulders wondering if I was ok, when I felt my legs give out and the shock of cold floor as I lost the ability to stand.

Whatever happened after that didn't register.

I merely only knew blackness.

When I awoke, my eyes hurt even closed, so I decided to use whatever senses were still intact to assess the situation. All I could feel was warmth. Warmth so hot I instantly knew I was in front of a fire. What I was laying on was soft to the touch and quite comfortable under my body.

The feel was familiar, also. And, slowly before I opened my eyes, I came to the realization that I had somehow been laid down on the couch in the common room I shared with Harry.

Blinking slowly, and squinting from the dull ache behind my eyes, I looked around the richly colored room, taking in the now familiar setting. My eyes, however, stuck to the spot as I realized Harry was asleep in the sitting chair closest to me, snoring softly with his mouth open just a fraction. I sat up achingly slow to avoid making sound and looked at the man next to me, taking in his slightly slumped over form as he breathed shallow breaths, curled up in the chair, facing me.

A slight indention from his glasses left small dents on each side of the bridge of his nose. His dark eyelashes were a shock against his lightly tanned skin, and I could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids from side to side. He looked calmer, less tense, in sleep. My eyes swept over his face, pausing momentarily to take in the barely there, light pink lightning bolt shape on his forehead. Since the beginning of the term, I hadn't had the chance to actually look at the infamous mark. Harry's messy, shaggy hair covered the it as if intended. I made a note on the side to ask him if he meant to do that.

I couldn't look away as Harry's chest rose and fell with his breathing. He was quite handsome, always had been, but there was a grown up-ness about him now. I took the time during the few days he had been ignoring me to put things in place between Harry and myself. I didn't have any questions anymore.

I knew, and fully had admitted to Blaise, that Harry was attractive to me. I wasn't sure if I 'liked' him yet, but I knew that I thought him physically attractive, and that spoke volumes I couldn't understand. I also took the time to think about Draco, because I knew that if I thought about Harry, there'd always be the question of whether or not Draco could still be in the picture. I wasn't sure if I wanted Harry to know the battle I fought for the two of them, it'd only make him think I was crazy, which I rightly could have been.

I wanted Harry in a way that I had once wanted Draco. That was fact.

My need for Draco hadn't disappeared, by any means, I had simply found that it wasn't logical to want something that didn't need or want me back. The aches and pains I had once gotten because of him had dulled significantly, but that could have also been the lack of his presence, which I was grateful for at the moment.

I wanted-no, _needed_ to see him. 22 years of friendship didn't just dissipate because one of us couldn't put their feelings at bay. He was still my friend, in Harry's words, my _best_ friend, and regardless of how much he had hurt me, he was a part of me that I had grown attached to. I needed him, because he knew me like no one else. Because we had far too much history together to simply stamp out because of a spat.

I must have rustled around on the couch or something. Harry blinked his eyes open, and then looked my way. I held back a gasp as I looked at his green eyes sans-spectacles. They seemed glazed over and unfocused, a side effect of having such bad vision, I suppose. He blinked a few times and then grabbed his glasses from the side table next to him.

After putting them on, he blinked a few more times and then finally looked up at me. "Oh, you're awake." He said, his voice groggy with sleep.

I hadn't noticed the dark purple, bruise-like shadows under his eyes. "Yes."

He nodded, looking around, rubbing his hands on the legs of his trousers. I grabbed a fluffy pillow from the ground next to me and held onto it as I stared at the man. "Can we talk?"

He looked at me finally, and frowned. "I don't really have much to say."

I mirrored his expression. "Ok, let's start with how I got from my classroom to here." I said, leaning my chin on the top of the pillow and keeping my gaze on Harry.

He nodded, rubbing his hands again. "I carried you." He didn't look up from his gaze at the fire.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He looked up then, seemingly startled at my question. "You passed out, Parkinson. Anyone would have done the same. I just happen to share a dormitory with you." His tone was becoming angry.

"Ok. Fair enough." I nodded. "Was I examined by Pomfrey?" I didn't want to mention the fact that my surname on his lips felt like a slap.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, she said you're stressed out. That's what's causing the…" He gestured to my chest with a wave of a hand. "She gave you a calming draught and told me to tell you to sleep more, and try to manage the stress by doing…activities." He finished suddenly flushing scarlet.

My brow furrowed in confusion, and I cocked my head to the side. _Activities?_ "Erm, ok." I muttered, looking away.

He nodded once more and rubbed his hands on his trousers again before standing up. "This doesn't change things, you know. I'm still pretty upset with you." He looked me in the eye.

I nodded and looked down at the pillow. "Can I just apologize for being a git and we go back to being…friends?" The word seemed out of place in this situation. Friends weren't supposed to be attracted to each other. _Then what is Draco?_

Harry sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Friends don't drug you to get information."

I swallowed, feeling like he had just punched me in the stomach. "_Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends." _I muttered, suddenly, for the first time, feeling ashamed of being from the house of the snake. Maybe Harry knew I wasn't able to have normal friendships. Maybe he knew how toxic we Slytherins could be.

He sighed again, and shook his head. "I need to eat. You can come or stay, I'm not really up for company."

"Ok." I said.

"Look, Parkinson-"

"Pansy." I said.

He narrowed his eyes. "Right." He paused, and brought two fingers up to the bridge of his nose. Draco had that habit also, but Draco was nothing like Harry. "I'm going. You should sleep."

"Yeah." I nodded.

He turned to the brick wall and made to leave but then paused. "You are so much better than your house." He said.

I looked at his back, frowning. "I am the embodiment of a snake."

"No," He said with a shake of his head. "no you're not." And with that, he left.

I laid down, still clutching the pillow to my chest and propped my head on the arm of the couch. The fire was a mere ember now, but it still left a hot blaze in its path. I shivered from the cold of the air behind me.

Harry didn't think I was bad, but I did.

He may not know, but I did.

I knew I was a horrible person, I knew I could only hurt him.

I knew he'd never be the same.

And with the knowledge and the decision to let Harry be, I fell asleep. The dull, constant ache at ease for the moment, and my mind scattered with thoughts of green eyes and blonde hair.

* * *

Harry woke me up after coming back from dinner. The room was cold, and I had been unknowingly shivering in my sleep. He laid a hand on my shoulder and shook softly, but I jolted awake, as if from a nightmare. It was dark in the room, so his expression was masked, but his voice seemed worried.

"You should go to your room, Pansy."

I blinked in the darkness and nodded, knowing he couldn't see. Stumbling to my door, I made my way to bed, waving a hand behind me as a goodnight to the man, but he had other plans.

"Pansy," he called softly before I had crossed the threshold into my room.

I hummed in response, turning towards the sound. "We're ok, you know." I could hear the smile in his voice. "I've missed your clumsiness."

I let out a snort tiredly. "I've made a decision to leave you be," I slurred with the coming of exhaustion. I could barely stand.

Harry chuckled before shuffling off to his room, I could hear every footstep. "Yeah, ok."

I woke up, and instantly decided that a shower wasn't enough. I needed time in a hot bath with good smelling soaps and calming potions.

As I made my way to the professor's bath on the third floor, I tried to make a plan for letting Harry go. It wouldn't be easy, I knew, but it would be necessary. He didn't deserve whatever I could do to him. He didn't deserve to be brought down too.

I filled the bath with water as I placed multiple locking charms and a silence charm just in case, and with a flick of my wand, a good smelling soap leaked out of one of the pipes above and filled the air with smells of apples and lavender. I smiled, undressed and stepped in, relishing the heat of the water as it cleansed my skin. I sat for a moment in the same place, and leaned against the wall of the bath, making sure bubbles covered anything that I didn't want seen. Moaning Myrtle had been known to sneak her ghostly head into this bath on occasion.

The bath began to cool, so I ducked my head under, scrubbing at my scalp and then re-emerging with a gasp for air. I flipped my hair out of my face and climbed out of the bath, wrapping myself in a towel that I had charmed to be warm. After getting dressed, I dried my hair with a flick of my wand tied it up into a twist at the top of my head and made my way out into the corridor.

I had been humming, swinging my towel beside me when I felt Blaise grab my arm from behind and pull me into a corner hidden from sight. "I need you to stay in your room today." He whispered, breath hot against my neck.

I looked up at him, confused about his angry request. "What? Why-?"

"He's here." Was all he said.

I still looked up at him as I asked "Who's here, Blaise? What's wrong?"

"Pansy, who's the last person you want showing up here right now?" He searched my face as a potent mix of fear, pain and love crashed into me.

I rested my back against the wall as I took in what he meant. Draco had come back to Hogwarts and Blaise wanted me to hide from him. That just wouldn't do. "I need to see him, Blaise." I whispered, too ashamed to look into his eyes, which were most likely disapproving.

He nearly growled. "Are you kidding me? He shows up and you just fall back into being his _bitch_?" he stepped back from me, as if disgusted.

I looked at him and grimaced. "I'm not anything except his friend, as are you, may I remind you." I said, nodding at him. "Do you know why he's here all of the sudden?" I couldn't keep the nagging feeling of wanting to run to wherever he was from my thoughts. Draco was _here_.

He shook his head. "Something he had to discuss with McGonagall in person." He was scowling.

"Blaise, Draco loves us. We're really his only friends." I kept my face nonchalant, but inside, I was ready to bolt. "Let's go see him together, yeah?" I asked, holding out a hand to him, an olive branch of sorts.

Blaise shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "If I go anywhere near that git, he'll lose all ability to produce." He was grimacing, but I could see the corners of his lips tilting slightly upwards at the thought.

I smirked. "I'll help you control the urge."

His expression straightened into one of indifference, but I could sense his uneasiness about me seeing our friend. He looked me over, focusing on my face, reading any give aways there, and then finally nodded with a resigned sigh. "Let's go. He's in the entrance hall."

I could have run, hell, I wanted to, but instead kept a fast walking pace as I dragged Blaise along with me down the corridors by hand. He was seemingly trying to be a heavy carry on as he shuffled his feet and tried to pull back a couple of times. I ignored his resistance, though, and kept up the pace. I had only one thing on my mind.

_Draco_.

I smiled, unable to hold back the excitement of seeing my friend, or best friend. It'd been the longest amount of time away from each other we'd ever spent. I missed him, suddenly, as we nearly ran down the last few corridors, almost painfully. My heart couldn't take the erratic beat it made as I rounded the corner and feasted my eyes on the first glimpse of blonde hair. A wide, goofy grin spread across my face as I let go of Blaise's hands and made a run for it, throwing my arms around the blonde's waist from behind.

He jumped from the sudden contact and turned his head to look at his attacker. His heart-wrenching smile in place as he turned in my arms and, I almost died, hugged me _back_.

I froze instantly as his arms wrapped around my shoulders. _This wasn't right_.

"Pansy," he mumbled into my hair, inhaling slowly. "You smell good."

I squeezed him tighter and buried my face into his chest. "You're here," was all I could get out as I tried to convince myself that this was normal and also to remind myself that Draco was my _friend_.

He let go of me and chuckled as his silver eyes took in my appearance. "Beautiful as ever, Parkinson." He nodded his approval.

_Screw friends_. I thought as his eyes bore into mine.

I flushed crimson as Blaise, still behind me, scoffed indignantly. Draco's eyes left my face and took in Blaise's appearance. He gave a stiff nod at the other man and narrowed his eyes. "Blaise."

Blaise looked him in the eye and stood still. "Malfoy."

I looked between them, suddenly feeling awkward. There was something wrong here. "Blaise," I whispered, warning him to avoid his wand. His eyes flickered to me, narrowing, and then went back to Draco.

"You decided to show affection to Pansy, now. What, Weasley not get it up for you anymore?" He hissed.

I gasped as Draco froze entirely, standing taller as he straightened his posture, the only movement was a popping muscle in his cheek that jutted out angrily. His silver eyes were ice cold. "I'm fine, thank you, how are you?" He gritted out, albeit politely, between his teeth.

Swallowing, I looked between them again. "Blaise, Draco, let's go have breakfast, yeah? I'm hungry!" I laughed awkwardly, wanting the moment to end. And, also, I was entirely famished.

"That's interesting, Malfoy. You being fine and all while Pansy here walks around like a zombie." Blaise said, not breaking his lethal glare from the blonde.

I winced, and stepped away from Draco. "Blaise, shut up." I said, sending him a warning look.

Draco's eyes slid to me before going back to him. "She looks fine to me." He said, tone still dry.

I could have laughed, but the tension between these two was incredibly thick, so I simply just gulped air. It was like drowning. Blaise took my intention and laughed shortly. "That's because she's been housing it up with Potter."

If I had wanted a reaction from Draco, I sure got one. His eyes widened first, but then narrowed as he looked at Blaise. "You're lying."

I couldn't speak. I wanted to shout at Blaise, tell him to shut up again, or go drown in the lake. Anything to stop him from continuing baiting the blonde. I gave Blaise a pleading look, about the only thing I could do as he smirked at Draco. "Not at all, actually, Potter had her in his arms just last night."

Draco's pale face flushed with anger as his glare turned to me, gluing me to the ground. I gulped, looking frantically at some passing students who had come out of the Great hall after breakfast. They looked over curiously, but then decided to walk quickly away as they saw the angry look on Draco's face. "_What_ is he talking about, _Pansy_?"

My eyes flitted between the two men, desperately trying to avoid answering. I had no reason to avoid the question, really, Harry and I had nothing going on, but Draco would see through everything and know that I harbored…something for him. And, Draco knowing anything about Harry and I would be a complete disaster. So I stood there, in the entrance hall, and opened and closed my mouth like a fish. No sound would come out, though, so I simply stood there, gaping at him, unable to defend myself.

Blaise, however, decided to take the hero role for the day. "Don't worry, Pansy, you don't have to tell him anything. It's not like he cares about you when he's gallivanting with Weasley."

I winced from Blaise's comment, because it was mostly true, and then looked at Draco, finally able to say something. "Draco, listen-"

Draco's eyes went from me to something over my shoulder. I silently prayed it wouldn't be-"Oi, Potter, fancy to help Pansy out?" Draco shouted. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed inwardly. _Merda_.

I stole a look at Harry over my shoulder and shook my head slightly. He kept his eyes on me as his brow furrowed and he walked up behind me. "What's wrong, Pansy, are you ok?" he asked, putting a dangerous hand on my shoulder.

I flinched, ready for Draco's reaction. He didn't disappoint as he nearly exploded and pushed Harry away from me. Harry stumbled back, startled, and finally looked to Draco. His eyes narrowed to slits as he took in the Blonde's appearance.

"Malfoy," he spat.

Draco scoffed and pulled me behind him, like a rag doll, I complied. "Potter, Blaise here says you've got some misconception about your relationship with dear Pansy here." Dracos voice was overtly sweet, almost condescending. I nearly threw up at the sickness.

Harry's eyes flickered, confused, to Blaise for a second before glancing at me from behind Draco. "Pansy, what's going on, why's he here?"

Draco stepped in front of me and glared. "Did I stutter, _Potter_? I want to let you know that there's absolutely nothing going to happen between you and her," he jutted a thumb over his shoulder in my direction.

I could have spoken up at that moment, but I was suddenly unable to speak again, my throat constricted, and I was helpless, I couldn't look at Harry, but I could feel his eyes on my face. "I don't think that's your choice, really, Malfoy." Harry said, looking at Draco with a lethal glare. "You don't own her." He stated.

All of this the morning I had finally decided to let Harry know we couldn't be friends.

Blaise smirked from off to the side and leaned against the wall. I suppose he was getting quite the show. Draco was incredulous as he pushed me completely behind him. "I might as well, Potter. I just want you to know, that whatever happened is now over. Ignore her from now on, or else." He warned.

Harry laughed. "You're serious, aren't you?" he was smiling, but his eyes were flashing angrily. "'_Or else'_, bloody hell, you are quite the ponce still."

I flinched. Harry was treading on incredibly chopping waters. Draco's temper had worsened since school. "Yes, and you still don't know your place. Leave her alone, and if I hear that you touch her again, I'll kill you with my own hands, clear?"

I gaped at Dracos back, startled by his threat. He didn't mean it, he couldn't. Harry glared at him, but didn't move. Draco sighed and waved a hand at him, as if he was shooing him away. "You're dismissed, Potter."

Harry reached for his wand, but decided against it, and with one last attempt to look at my face, turned and stomped off into the Great hall.

I had gotten my way, and fate had made sure that I kept my promises. I hadn't wanted to hurt Harry in the process.

Blaise finally came over from the wall, clapping his hands with a triumphant smirk in place. "Good show, chap! Cheers!" He clapped Draco on the back and swaggered off into the Great hall also.

I glared at Blaise's retreating form and then finally pushed Draco away from me from behind. He didn't move, of course, because Draco was three times my size and _strong_, but he did glance at me over his shoulder with a warning look, before turning all the way around to face me. "You did not just try to _push_ me, Pansy." He rolled his eyes. "Mature, really."

I glared at him. "Where do you get off doing that to me, Malfoy?" I spat.

Draco frowned and glared right back. "Where do you get off fraternizing with _Potter_?"

I scoffed. "I'm not _fraternizing_ with anyone, and why would it be any of your business? I allow you to _fraternize_ with every other witch in Britain, and you don't hear me complaining!" I shouted back.

Draco's eyes flashed angrily and he locked his jaw. "That's different, Pansy, and you know it."

"No I don't know that it's different, but please, oh wise one, enlighten me on more of your sexual _fraternizing_!" I shouted again.

Draco glared at me and looked around us. "Pansy, shut your large mouth before I do it for you." Out of surprise at his words, and not because he told me to, I closed my mouth and stared at him in shock. "You're screaming like a banshee and it's quite unbecoming."

At that, I nearly tackled him to the ground and strangled him there. "Contrary to popular belief, I am _not_ beneath you, Draco. And, you do not own me. You do not have the right to interfere in my life."

Draco seemed startled for a second at my sudden on come of righteousness, but he quickly composed his expression in a very Malfoy manner. "Calm down, you twat. It's not like I told you that you can't wear yellow." He rolled his eyes and shook his head as if I were an insolent child.

I could have been angry with him still, and I should have been, but I wasn't, so instead, I simply sagged against his chest with my forehead leaning against him. Maybe I was pathetic now. "I really hate you sometimes." I said, blinking away tears. Me crying in front of Draco would be the ultimate weakness.

Draco scoffed, but wrapped his arms around me again. "I know, but it's for your own good."

I shook my head but remained quiet. The feeling of his arms around me began to make me sleepy, and just when I was about to suggest sleep, he let go. "You should go, I'll send you an owl with what color I'm wearing."

I looked up at him, confused and somehow still dazed from his beauty. "I'm sorry, did I miss something?"

He looked at me and frowned. "Pardon?"

I rolled my eyes at his formal tone. "Why would you tell me what colors you're wearing?" I mean, sure, I loved him, but that didn't mean I obsessed over what he was wearing…that he knew of.

He sighed impatiently, beginning to walk away. "McGonagall should be making an announcement tonight at dinner. I simply assumed you'd want to be my date." He smirked at me over his shoulder as he walked off.

_What about Ginny?_ I wanted to ask, but kept my mouth shut. What he didn't mention, I didn't have to know.

"Maybe I don't!" I shouted as he rounded a corner, laughing at my pathetic excuse to avoid being his date.

I stomped off to my common room, deciding to avoid Harry and Blaise for the day, curious about what Draco had meant, and why he had wanted me to be his date. I didn't want to get my hopes up. _He's supposed to be my_ _friend._

But, if I was truly to be honest, the aspect of being Draco's date to anything had my heart beating faster and I suddenly felt a smile tug at my lips.

I was in so much trouble.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING.

_Author's note: _I apologize for the long amount of wait, school has started, and it's a tad crazy, but I promise that this fic will be finished! Patience!

This just so happens to be one of my favorite chapters so far. You'll understand later. :)

Enjoy!

* * *

The day passed by quite uneventfully. Blaise and I avoided each other, even during meals, and Harry wouldn't even look at me.

If I was to say things were going well, I'd be lying.

The high Draco had left me in was all I needed to make it through my classes, though, so I breezed through my lectures and presentations. I even made Mel laugh on a few occasions as we walked to and from the Great hall for lunch. I was seemingly ok.

That was, until dinner. All day, I had been wondering what Draco had been talking about. There must have been something quite important for him to come all the way to Hogwarts to speak with McGonagall, a woman he openly hated. It had to be something he cared about. Draco wasn't one for pointless conversation.

So, once I walked into the Great hall a few minutes early, my eyes scanned the High table for the headmistress, but she had not yet made her appearance. This was something to take note of. Minevra McGonagall had always been incredibly prompt for everything. I even recall her handing out a lecture to Weasley and Potter one year for arriving a few minutes late to a transfiguration class. She was not one to dilly dally among the halls.

I made sure to sit near her seat, however, and sat with excitement. Whatever she had to announce, it meant Draco was taking me as a date, and that could only be good, right? Maybe Draco had come around to the thought of _us_.

I shook my head, smiling, and looked to the doors as they opened and a very late McGonagall stepped into the hall. The entire room quieted as she made her way to the podium. My heart beat quickly. Excitement in my veins.

She stood with her back to me, but I could still picture her stern gaze on the students as she commanded their attention.

"Good evening," she began, sounding uncharacteristically tired. "I have a very exciting announcement tonight that I wish to share with the staff and students of this school." She cleared her throat a little and began again. "It was brought to my attention this morning that a certain tradition of Hogwarts has been forgone since decades past, and a seemingly fair argument was brought forth to revive it."

I froze, entirely curious. Draco was that argument, but what could he possibly have charmed his way into?

"As of this term, a mere eight years since the end of the second Battle of Hogwarts, we will host a Halloween night ball in honor of tradition and the war veterans." I, along with most of the people in the hall, looked to the most obvious war veteran in the room, who was now flushed crimson with his head in his arms, the tell tale sign of his flush could be told by the pink tips of his ears. I smiled despite the fact that I knew Harry did not like this idea. "Now, now, students, calm yourselves, there is more: As is tradition, only sixth and seventh years, along with a date of their choice shall attend this ball." McGonagall hadn't finished when there were sounds of outrage at her announcement. The lower years were clearly distraught. "Quiet, you lot!" the headmistress shouted, reigning the crowd at bay. "Of course, there will be many war veterans in attendance, along with your very own professors and their dates." From my left, I heard Blaise scoff, I didn't really care why. My smile was unavoidable.

Draco was taking me to this ball by choice. He could have chosen Ginny, but he was taking me, and that was all that mattered at that point.

I tuned McGonagall out as she started to list the rules and the formal wear requirement for the ball, and looked to Harry. We caught each other's eyes for a moment. He was expressionless as he stared back. I made an attempt at a small smile, but he looked away and back to McGonagall. I had forgotten, momentarily, about the fact that I had decided I was going to leave him alone. I had grown so accustomed to his smile, it felt almost cold without it.

I turned to Blaise, then, and tried to vouch the status of our friendship, but he wouldn't look up from what looked like a very interesting conversation with Mel and Anthony. I sighed and waited for the food to appear on my plate.

And took notice of the pain that scratched itself to the surface again. Except this was a new breed, a more vicious, unforgiving kind that left the tips of my fingers tingling with smarting pain.

I looked at the Slytherin banner above its corresponding house and tried to will myself to do anything but clutch at the spot that was so familiar, and new to me.

My knuckles went white as I drew out the pain and clutched the table for support.

* * *

The entire school buzzed with excitement after McGonagall's announcement. The younger years grumpily stated how it wasn't fair to be left out, but they were repeatedly told that they would have their two years of attendance once of age, it still didn't appease them.

The sixth and seventh years rushed to get dates, and all throughout my upper year classes, things exploded and sang as invitations to the ball. It was sweet, really, and reminded me of the year the Yule ball had occurred, which, in turn, brought up the memories of being Draco's date to that ball also.

Draco did eventually send me an owl with the color he was wearing, a dark midnight blue that he stated would compliment both of our fair complexions, and even a swatch of it to take with me shopping. I, however, had no need to do such a thing. I could simply send my measurements and the swatch to any of my mother's French designers and receive a dress within weeks, which I'm sure Draco had intended me to do anyway, he knew I never went shopping for clothing.

So with my dress being designed by one of the best French wizard designer old, pureblood money could buy, I was free to think about how good Draco had always looked in blue.

And to worry about the new panic attacks that kept dragging me under.

The weeks until Halloween flew incredibly fast. Blaise was still avoiding me; he had even pulled Anthony and Mel to his side. They'd sit together at meals and laugh obnoxiously loud so I would overhear. Obviously, they were taking the mature route.

Harry was far worse, however. If I entered the room, he'd leave immediately. He sat as far away from both Blaise and I as he could, sometimes even getting to meals far earlier than anyone else just to get the far end seat by Neville and Slughorn. He knew I would never voluntarily sit next to Neville Longbottom. He did our patrols without consulting me about going along, but simply walked out of our common room without a word and stayed out as late as he could. It was as if we were strangers. Worse, it was as if I were invisible.

I made sure to remind myself that it was what I had wanted. I was going to tell him we couldn't be friends anymore, but I had never expected him to take up the offer without having to be asked.

I didn't want to admit to myself that it hurt so much because I missed him. His smile, his awkward flushes or when I'd touch his arm or his hand, his child-like love of candy, and the way he ate everything on his plate as if he'd never see food again. I didn't want to miss his warm skin, and his suffocating hugs, and the way he looked at me, as if he cared about everything I said. The way he'd smile when he saw me after a long day, or the arm he'd throw around my shoulders as we walked back to our common room. I missed my friend. I missed Harry. But I wasn't going to let that be known.

I knew I had screwed everything up, but I had never expected him to leave me alone. I suppose I had grown accustomed to his presence. And, as much as I had fought to battle out the emerging fondness of the Gryffindor, he fought to wiggle his way into my thoughts, and my actions. I couldn't think without wondering if Harry felt the same way, if he missed me too.

Of course, I didn't miss him. I was just lonely without Blaise. Right.

Hogwarts became an incredibly lonely place without my friends. Even as the excitement over the ball raged around the corridors and in classrooms, I had never felt more alone than I did when my friends began to ignore me.

It was funny, in a way, though. When I was a student, I had been considered relatively popular. I had plenty of people that considered themselves my friends; all of Slytherin groveled their way into my presence at least once during the seven years, plus the year we all returned to Hogwarts for our 'seventh year', I had spent there. And, although I was nearly surrounded by people who wanted to be associated with me on a constant basis, the only two people I actually cared to be around were Draco and Blaise.

Losing Blaise was like missing an arm.

Draco hadn't seem fazed by his arguments with Blaise. He never seemed fazed by arguments with anyone. I, however, knew that if I didn't fix whatever was between us, it'd be too much pain to handle, another panic attack to come up and hinder me a useless, ball of pain.

Maybe I didn't feel the same way for Blaise as I did Draco, but I did love him. He was the one that cared for me after Draco began to work his way through the Slytherin female population. He protected me from the people in other houses, defended me when he'd hear comments about my nose. And although I hated him most of the time because he couldn't help but meddle in other people's business, he was still a very important part of my life. I didn't have many people that loved me because I was who I was. There were never any pretenses with Blaise, he knew every single inch of the dark side of me, and he still loved me regardless.

In ways Draco could never be there for me, Blaise had been, and I knew I needed to amend our broken friendship. I had to.

The best way to Blaise's heart is through his feet.

The man loves shoes.

Blaise Zabini most likely owned more pairs of shoes than I did, and I am a very avid shoe lover.

So, a pair of custom-made Hungarian horntail dragon scale dress shoes in size 10 would definitely do the trick.

It didn't take an hour after placing them outside of the portal of his common room for him to track me down while I was making lesson plans in the library.

"What are these?" Blaise asked with wide, serious eyes, holding up the shoes I had purchased for him with a hand.

I looked at them and then shrugged. "Shoes, I guess." I turned back to my papers with a smirk, knowing I had won him back.

He gasped shortly and sat down across from me, gently placing the shoes on the table. "These are Hungarian horntail scale shoes that are most likely the only of their kind, Parkinson. They are not just shoes. They are heaven, and you must be wanting to apologize if you had them made for me." He raised his eyebrows and put on a sickeningly sweet smile.

I didn't look up from my papers, but nodded. "I'm sorry."

He stretched out a hand and put it over mine; messing up the word I was writing and causing me to look him in the eye. "Are you going with him? To the ball. Draco asked you to be his date, didn't he?" It was more a statement, he clearly already knew, but I sighed and nodded anyway.

"Is it so bad, Blaise? He did take me to the Yule ball, I don't see how this is any different." But it was. And I knew that.

Blaise took his hand off mine and crossed them together on the tabletop. "But it is, Pansy. We aren't fourth years anymore. He has a _girlfriend_, Pansy. A _girlfriend_. One he told you that he loves, and you-well, you and Harry-"

"Me and Harry what, Blaise?" I hissed angrily. Why was everyone implying that Harry and I were anything more than friends? "We were never more than friends, and barely that."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, I've known you for too long to take that utter bull shit, Parkinson. Suck it up and tell the truth, you _like_ Potter."

"No I don't!"

"You find him attractive." He stated.

"N-well, yes, but-"

"And you've missed him since you stopped talking." Another statement.

"Yes, but I have Draco." I attempted at defense.

"And Draco has Weasley."

"That's besides the point!" I spat, throwing my quill onto the table childishly.

Blaise sighed, irritated. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

I stopped short, confused at his outburst. "What are you talking about? Everyone?"

Blaise sighed again and rolled his eyes. "You lot. Harry said that you loved Draco, and I told him Draco loves Weasley, and he said 'that's besides the point'" Blaise grimaced and shook his head.

"What are you talking about, Blaise?" I asked, even more confused. "Why would Harry care if I loved Draco?" as far as I knew, Harry could care less about anything to do with me.

Blaise's head snapped to look at me, and his eyes widened. "Um," he laughed awkwardly. "No reason." He smiled sheepishly.

I frowned. "What do you know, Blaise?"

He raised his hands, waving away my questions and shaking his head. "I don't know anything. Nothing. Stop asking me, I'm mad at you." He averted his gaze.

"Blaise Zabini, I gave you the best pair of shoes you've ever had, now you tell me what you know." I glared at him.

He ran a hand through his hair and sagged against his seat. "Harry's going to kill me." He sighed tiredly and sat forward with his face in his hands. "There's something you need to know about Harry. Something he doesn't want you to know." He mumbled.

I nodded, though he couldn't see me, and egged him on. "Yeah, ok, what is it?"

He looked up from his palms with tired eyes. "Promise not to tell him I told you?"

I considered it for a second, smirked and nodded. "Sure."

He cocked an eyebrow at my response. "I don't like that smirk of yours."

"Just tell me."

"Harry-er-he told me that…" he looked me straight in the eye. "Harry told me he loves you."

I sat up straighter suddenly. "What?"

Blaise furrowed his brow. "Did I not say it loud enough? He said he-"

"I need to go."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, getting up as I did, and stepping forward warily.

I couldn't look at him, my mind raced with questions, screaming thoughts. My hands trembled as I fought the urge to run. "I-I need to talk to Po-Harry." I attempted to breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth, but to no avail.

"No, you're going to stay here and calm down first, you're shaking, and you are pale, bloody hell, Pansy, you're freezing!" Blaise gasped as he took one of my hands and tried to pull me to him to calm me down.

"I-I need to g-go, Blaise, I'll s-see you later, ok?" I made to turn, but he still held my hand in his grasp.

Blaise pulled me back to him, putting his free hand under my chin to force me to look up at him. "What are you thinking?" That was by far the hardest question anyone had asked me in a long time.

I squeezed my eyes shut, partly to escape his penetrating gaze, and also to attempt to organize any semblance of coherency to let him know what my mind was processing. "Blaise," I whispered, pleadingly. "H-Harry," was all I could get out.

And then suddenly, for the first time, Blaise drew me impossibly close and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. It wasn't desperate like Draco's or warm and lovely like Harry's, but I found my arms clinging to him in support.

"You are my…_best_ friend," Blaise whispered into my hair as he held me close. I stared off past his shoulder, but couldn't quite see anything. I didn't respond, and he didn't say anything either as we stood, clinging to each other out of whatever comfort we both needed.

I was in full meltdown mode.

* * *

"Pansy!"

I turned at the yell of my name from somewhere in a seemingly empty corridor, but relaxed as I saw Henry turn the corner and jog up to me, stopping just before we collided, breathing heavily.

"I-" he heaved a breath in. "Called you right as you left the library-" another heave. "Did you not hear me?"

Frowning, I shook my head. I hadn't.

Henry was about to say something, but stopped when he seemed to come to realization. "Wait, what's wrong with you?"

I stared into his chocolate brown eyes and then sighed. "Nothing."

He narrowed his eyes and looked me up and down, causing me to feel instantly self-conscious. Could Henry sense my impending breakdown? "I don't believe you." He ran a hand through his dark brown hair after a moment of scrutiny and shrugged. "If you don't want to tell me, that's ok. I have to ask you something, though."

I raised my eyebrows as a sign to continue and he did. "I overheard a few fifth year Gryffindors talking about you the other day, I just wanted to clear a rumor up really quick."

I sighed. "No, I am not pregnant, nor am I a vampire." Old news.

Henry seemed confused for a second. "Wait…what?" he shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know. No, they were saying something about you being yelled at by Draco Malfoy in the entrance hall during breakfast a couple of weeks ago." I froze. "I was just coming to you first to confirm that you have nothing to do with that smarmy git." Henry's tone was angry.

Henry and Draco had never liked each other. Henry more so after Draco had brought Tracey Davis to our family trip to Spain he had been invited on when we were 14. I had cried myself to sleep all 8 nights.

Shaking my head, I sighed again. Maybe the constant sighing was how he knew. "He wasn't yelling, we were-"

"So he was here? Malfoy?" Henry was trembling.

"Calm down, Henny. He was the 'argument' for the Halloween ball." I stated, rolling my eyes and wanting to be anywhere but here, talking to my brother about the last person I wanted to think about.

"Four things:" He held up four fingers. "One: Don't call me Henny. I'm 17, not 5." He ticked off each finger as he went. "Two: Why didn't you tell me about the ball beforehand? Three: Why the hell are you defending Malfoy? And four: Why aren't you sitting at meals with Harry anymore?"

I looked at up at Henry, angry at him stalling me from my bed. "Ok, four more things:" I held up my four fingers. "One: I'm your big sister, _Henny_. I'll call you what I want." I poked him in the chest with my pointer finger after I ticked it off. "Two: I, along with all of the professors, found out about the ball when you did." I poked him with my middle finger. "Three: I'm not defending him, just stating facts." I poked him with my ring finger. "And, four: not that it's any of your business, but Harry and I are no longer speaking." I poked him with my pinky.

He rolled his eyes. "You stupid bint, you still love Draco, don't you?"

I hit him on his arm. "Don't call me that, I can take house points away."

He laughed and hit my shoulder. "I dare you, and you didn't answer my question."

"I don't see why it's any of your concern." I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged.

"What about Harry?"

"What about him?" I shrugged.

Henry gaped at me. "You're serious? You're going to choose _Draco Malfoy_ over Harry _Freaking_ Potter?" he laughed incredulously.

"What's wrong with Draco?" I asked, slightly defensive.

Henry rolled his eyes again, it seemed to be his trademark move. "He's a _ponce_for one, and he hurt you. That's two things. The list continues, and spans over about 22 years of you knowing him, I could state everything if you want."

"You're just being a prat." I snarled.

"No, I'm being your brother and I'm telling you the truth. You choosing Draco is a bloody stupid idea. You're supposed to be the smart one." He shook his head as if disappointed.

"I'm not _choosing_anyone!" I whispered sharply. I wasn't. There was no way that in the state my muddled mind was in, that I could make any good decision.

"Yeah, ok." Henry rolled his eyes again. "You keep telling yourself that." Henry obviously was missing the fact that I didn't want to be in the hall at that moment, or talking about anything that he wanted to. He had always been obtuse.

"Shut up and go to bed, Henny." I groaned, finally fully annoyed with my brother and his accusations and incredibly bad timing. When he scowled but didn't move, I pushed him and whispered harshly, "100 points from Slytherin."

"_Tu ne voudrais pas_." He narrowed his eyes. _You wouldn't_.

I smirked at him. "Try me."

His eyes widened and he started to shuffle back. "Ok, ok, I'm going! Don't get your knickers in a twist!"

I laughed as he ran around the corner to his dormitory. My brother was a pain in the arse.

* * *

I made it to my room a few minutes later. It was a short distance, and I had too much on my mind to stop or really take in my surroundings. Once through the brick wall, I didn't even look near the fire, I could see the glow of it splashing shadows against the wall, but I wanted to sleep, and so I trudged through and made it to my door handle before I heard Harry shuffle on the couch in front of the fire.

I froze, almost instinctively, but didn't turn around. If I looked at Harry anytime soon, or opened my mouth to speak, I knew I'd have some breakdown, which I'm sure wouldn't play well into the night's events. I needed sleep, and a nice, long sob before bed.

Shaking off whatever effect Harry's presence had on me, I continued my walk to my room a little fast now, desperate to escape any conversation Harry was hoping to have. Being shouted and glared at would do wonders for my mental state. Or cause another panic attack. That didn't need to happen.

"Pansy," Harry said quietly, breaking the silence.

I froze again. Damn legs. There was only a few meters of space between me and the door to my room. I could make it if I ran, and a nice locking charm on my door would keep out any unwanted Gryffindors. But harry didn't let me finish my plans of escape.

"Pansy," he repeated, this time a little closer. He had stood and taken a few steps in my direction when I was planning my dash to bed. I didn't want to speak, afraid I'd end up a sobbing mess, so I turned my head slightly over my shoulder, careful to not look at any part of him, as I mumbled in response. He seemed to take that as his answer and took a step forward. "Can I talk to you?"

He sounded exhausted. I began to tremble. I shook my head, hoping to make it look like I was adamant that we avoid all forms of communication, but it only came out to be a pathetic shake. He went on anyway. "We haven't talked since Malfoy came and basically peed on you to get me to stay away," he said, with an awkward chuckle.

He was referring to Draco's attempt to embarrass me as an act of ownership. I had decided in the weeks since Draco's appearance that he only defended what was 'his' because he'd rather do jumping jacks with a blast-ended shrewt than have anyone he was associated with have anything to do with Harry Potter. He didn't want to date me, or take me to a ball, he simply wanted to keep an eye on me and Potter out of the way. I couldn't help but scowl at the memory of the blonde. I loved him, but I desperately didn't want to.

"Pansy?" Harry asked lightly, bringing me out of my mental interruption. I snapped my head back, hurting my neck a bit, and finally looked at him. _Merlin_, I had missed him.

"What Draco said," I began, surprised that my voice was audible. "It's not something you should pay attention to." I attempted a smile, but I couldn't stop my mind from rolling around the topics that were blatantly obvious.

_Harry loved me_.

Harry loved _me_.

For some unknown, unfathomable reason, Harry Potter _loved_ me.

He stared at me, with grass green eyes, and a confused expression. "He acted like he _owned_ you, and you just stood by and let him be that way." He said, running a hand through his messy hair quickly.

I gulped. _He loved me_. "What was I supposed to say? 'No, Draco, stop, Harry's a nice guy!'?" I did a bad imitation of my own voice and then frowned. Being overly sarcastic might make him think I don't know. "I stood by because I'd rather let Draco think he has control over what I do than to actually exercise my free will in front of him. He's not the easiest to deal with." I did a nonchalant shrug. Draco would excommunicate me from his life if he ever found out that Harry loved me. He'd never speak to me again. I hated myself for the knowledge that that would hurt more than having him tell me what to do. At least when he's being incredibly bossy, he's around. It shows he cares, in his own, sick Draco way.

"So what, you just let him boss you around? You do it willingly?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer to me.

I instinctively took a step back, not wanting to be closer to him, and also desperately needing sleep. "He's my friend, Harry. I love him." I shrugged and tried to look anywhere but at his hurt expression.

"Last time I checked, Hermione wasn't making me do anything against my will, or telling me who to speak to." He muttered.

I watched as he took a step closer, and this time, I didn't back away. He put his hands on my shoulder. "We have different definitions of friendship, Potter." I said to the best of my ability with him being so close. _He loved me_.

Harry chuckled and leaned down so that our foreheads were touching. Everywhere his skin contacted mine, I burned. "We have different definitions of a lot of things, Parkinson."

My ability to think coherently entirely disappeared as his warm breath fluttered across my cheeks. I nearly collapsed there. "W-well, that's a-a g-good th-thing, then. B-because i-it'd be b-boring if we a-always a-agreed on e-e-everything." I stuttered out as my gaze fell on his lips that were mere centimeters from mine. If he leaned in any closer…

"I've got to go to bed. 'Night!" I practically shouted out as I stumbled out of Harry's arms and ran the remaining distance to my bed, safely behind my magically locked door, and away from certain Gryffindors.

Certain Gryffindors that _loved_ me.

I could hear Harry's chuckle from outside my door as I huddled under the covers and prayed he wouldn't say anything. Of course, as usual, my prayers went unheard.

"'Night, Pansy," he said, I could tell from his tone that he was entirely too smug.

I grabbed my wand from my bedside table and poked my head out from under the heavy blanket from the bed. Scowling in Harry's direction behind the door, I made to do a silencing charm when Harry continued.

"Oh, and Pansy," he said, sounding as if he had begun to walk away, but had turned around to add something. I froze. _He wouldn't_. "I love you." _He would._

The resounding _whack_ as my wand fell from my loose fingers and onto the hard, stone floor must have been audible from Harry's position because his laugh could be heard until the sound of his door shutting left me in silence. I didn't pick up my wand, or mutter the silencing charm, I simply squeezed my eyes shut, and began the scheduled breakdown.

Sobbing myself to sleep did wonders for my dreams that night.

* * *

Whether it was merely aftershock from actually hearing the words from his mouth, or the fact that I couldn't accept the reality, I avoided Harry to my best ability. I also wondered if it would always be like this, an avoidance game between Blaise, Harry and I. Purposely avoiding them was beginning to be tiresome. I wanted things normal like before Draco showed up, or certain things were revealed.

Certain _feelings_ were told.

I made a mental note to pretend as if I hadn't heard what Harry had professed last night. That didn't meant that I would speak to him willingly. In case he decided to talk about it, or, _Merlin's beard_, repeat his statement.

That was the last thing that needed to happen.

So during classes, I made sure to lock the classroom door until my students were dismissed, and even to engage a student or two in a lovely conversation about extra credit, or their homework. Of course, Harry wouldn't be having that. He made a point to walk me to and from the Great hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and even to make his way to the Charms corridor between passing periods to have a conversation with me.

I preferred him when he left the room as I entered. At least then I didn't have the blaringly obvious topic to think about.

It wasn't that I didn't like Harry, he was a very attractive man, no doubt, but he couldn't _love_ me. He had only, truly known me for a few months, during which, we had had several fits of not speaking to each other. The thought that he could even possibly feel anything towards me of the romantic sort was nearly laughable. This was Harry Potter we're talking about, the boy who could barely speak if Ravenclaw was brought up during school due to his insane infatuation with that Asian one…Chew or something. He was simply confused.

I made a point to bring up such points during his walking me to lunch, which had him laughing and claiming he was merely a school boy then, and that there was no possible way he _couldn't _love me when we were so 'perfect' for each other. I had to make sure to check my gag reflex.

"When you say things like that, you sound completely ridiculous, like a fool, Harry." I shook my head at him and walked a little faster to avoid passing students hearing our conversation.

Harry didn't take the hint though, and quickened his pace until he was in step with me, and threw an arm over my shoulders. "A fool in _love_." He whispered into my ear.

I stopped walking abruptly and pushed him off of me. "Ok, seriously, _stop_!" I shouted, causing a few passing walkers to stare. "Stop with the touchy feely stuff, and the walking me to meals, and the cheesy lines." I pleaded, biting my lip in frustration and taking a deep, steading breath.

Harry laughed. "_This _is what love is, Pansy. Notice how I'm not controlling you, or telling people not to look at you?" he asked, gesturing around in the now empty hallway. "_This_ is how someone who loves you treats you. They hold your hand in public," he stepped forward and grabbed my hand for emphasis. "They tell you how they feel, and aren't afraid to sound stupid, or foolish." He lifted a hand to my cheek, and smiled as he ran his fingers along my jawline. "They care about you, and tell anyone they can about their love for you." He stepped back and tilted his head back with spread arms. "I love Pansy Parkinson!" he shouted.

I grabbed him by his lapels and glared. "_Stop_." I snarled. "You don't love me, Harry." I pushed him away, wanting to be anywhere but here in this conversation.

"Why not?" he asked, seemingly confused, but his face looked hurt.

I sighed, and bit my lip. "Because _you_ aren't supposed to love _me_." I said, gesturing between us and shaking my head. "We're friends, good friends, and that's great," I said, smiling. "Let's keep it that way."

Harry frowned. "This is because of Malfoy." He stated, shaking his head and looking off towards the doors of the Great hall. "You can't love me because you only love _him_."

Clenching my jaw, and attempting to remain calm, I sighed. "This has nothing to do with Draco, Harry. This is about you and me. Us." I didn't deny that I loved Draco. I didn't need to. Harry would be able to tell it was a lie.

Harry scoffed. "Yeah, ok."

"I'm serious." I gritted my teeth, not wanting to get angry.

He shook his head and looked me up and down, just like Henry had. "Prove it." He crossed his arms over his chest, daring me to deny his accusations.

I could have ran, or made some believable excuse, but I stood there, hopelessly thinking of someway to prove to Harry that Draco had nothing to do with this. Whatever I said, harry wouldn't believe, though. He knew, somehow, when I was lying.

So I didn't lie.

I didn't say anything, in fact.

In a last-stitch effort to defend my sanity, I pulled Harry to me, again by his blazer's lapels, and crashed my lips to his, forcing a surprised, mumbled sound from his throat.

And I swear, in that moment, stars exploded.

* * *

_Author's note 2.0:_ Pansy's insane mood changes will be fixed soon, I promise. So...Harry loves Pansy...Pansy doesn't know what she thinks...Pansy kisses Harry...What?

Next chapter: _The ball. Dun dun dun._


End file.
